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bimbobaggins69 · 5 months

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𝙬𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙨𝙮?

𝙛𝙧𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: when your new boyfriend Steve accidentally stumbles upon your hidden diary filled with your biggest secrets and darkest fantasies, he asks his fraternity brother Eddie; a drug dealing metalhead to help him fulfill your biggest one.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, past fwb steddie, 90s au, fuck boy eddie, slight hurt/comfort, sexual tension, accidental outing (I swear he means good), oral (m receiving), throat fucking, dirty talk, unprotected p in a (m receiving), anal play (f receiving), unprotected p in v & dp in v, boy on boy action, dom eddie, filth filth filth, fluffs, longing.

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: just an idea that’s been rotting away in my brain that I had to write down… as always thank you to my beautiful girlfriend @xxhellfirebunnyxx and the babes @take-everything-you-can & @livosssblog for beta reading.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 7.4k

Date night with your new boyfriend Steve has turned into a regular weekend thing, although you had your eye on the pretty, brown haired boy all semester long, you had officially met three and half weeks ago while you were working your waitressing job at the on campus diner. He asked for your number and the two of you have been inseparable since.

“Hey Steve, can you go grab my purse off of my desk in my room, please? I’m gonna use the restroom and then we can go.” You ask, making your way into the hallway of your apartment, you close the door to the bathroom behind you softly before going about your business.

The brown haired boy in question walks into your bedroom and grabs your black leather bag off of your desk but before he turns to walk away, something hits his nike sneaker and bounces off, hitting the floor with a light thud.

“Shit.” Steve huffs under his breath as he bends down to retrieve the aforementioned object; it's a journal or maybe a diary? It’s splayed out on the floor, open to the very last page. Steve tries his best not to look, he doesn't want to snoop. He really, really likes you and doesn't want to give any reasons for you not to trust him so early on; but when his hazel eyes catch a glimpse of the words: “Deepest Darkest Fantasies” written in bold black lettering on the very top of the page, he can't help but to continue scanning over the rest. Words like “threesome”, “double penetration” and “guy on guy action” pique his interests. He’s no prude and has definitely had his share of gay action with a few of his fraternity brothers, one specifically that he had an ongoing friends with benefits situation with, so he’s not put off by it. What he is, is surprised, almost shocked that you would be into something like that. Most girls he met weren’t and would cut a date short if you even so much as mentioned the word bisexual in their presence.

He hears the bathroom door click open, so he quickly closes the diary and places it back onto your desk before grabbing your bag and booking it out into the living room where he sits on a bar stool, doing his best to look as if he’d been waiting for you the whole five or so minutes.

“You ready to go?” You ask with an excited smile that Steve just wants to kiss off of you, he already thought you were his perfect dream girl but something about what he found in your diary made him that much more attracted to you; perhaps it was the feeling of someone finally accepting every part of him.

After a nice dinner date at your favorite sushi spot and one too many saki bombers later, you're both stumbling into your apartment, heated lips clashing together like they were set off by some sort of magnetic force. Deep, passionate kisses shared between you, as if they were going out of style. Hands roaming over each other's bodies before finding their permanent spot in the other's soft tresses.

“Need you so fucking bad, baby.” Steve whispers to you through tender kisses.

“Mmm, take me to my room, big boy.” You’re finally able to huff out as his lips move in a sloppy motion, down your neck.

The chosen pet name makes Steve tense, the kisses he was just placing on your collar bone come to an immediate halt.

“Everything okay?” You ask as you gently scratch at his scalp with your long fingernails, making him shudder and groan with delight.

“No, yeah everythings fine.” He scoops you up into his arms, carrying you to your bedroom and tossing you onto your bed. The stuff he saw in your diary, plus the mention of the nickname his fraternity brother/ex friends with benefits calls him, kind of set his brain on fire with thoughts of the three of you together.

Things didn't work out with Eddie in the way Steve had first wanted them to, he was very much into partying and sleeping around whereas Steve had dreams of settling down; he had his party and meaningless sex phase for most of high school, it was no longer fun for him and when he voiced that to Eddie, the metalhead laughed and said he didn't think he’d ever settle down, which was a silent blow to Steve’s heart. He has since gotten over it and moved on all while staying friends and being roommates, but that other part of his brain was enticed at the idea of having both of you at the same time. Maybe he’d have to introduce you to Eddie and let it go from there, let you choose whether you’d want them to be the ones to make that fantasy come true.

Steve loses his train of thought when you start to remove your clothes, then he's on you again; kissing you with an intense passion that almost knocks the air from your lungs.

“God, im gonna fuck you so good.”

“Come on Eddie, It’s a goddamn threesome! When have you ever turned one of those down, huh?” Steve deplores as he paces in front of his half naked roommate who’s sat comfortably in a slouched position with his head thrown back onto a saggy, discolored couch cushion.

“I'm sure I've turned one or two down in my day.” Eddie says with a smirk as his eyes follow the honey eyed boy, whose red sox cap sits backwards over that perfect quiff of brown hair.

“Oh please, you fucked those twin sisters last month and had no moral fucking compass then.” Steve quips, exhaling the built up of irritation out through his nose.

“Well, that was just fun. Believe it or not Harrington, twins are a very niche kink and I won't sit here and listen to you kink shame me, kay?” The smirk on Eddie’s face grows to full capacity when Steve throws him a pissed off look as his hands fall to his hips, in his signature Steve stance.

“C’mon, at least meet her first before you make an indefinite decision, Eds.” Steve says while pulling out the big guns; the nickname mixed with a bat of his long lashes has his roommate instantly folding, though not without contempt.

“Fine, I’ll meet your little girlfriend and decide whether I wanna fuck her or not.” Eddie huffs out as if he’s doing Steve some big nuanced favor. “Now move, you're blocking the Tv.” The metalhead declares as he tosses an overstuffed throw pillow at the former jock.

“You’re not fucking her, we’re fucking her!” Steve shouts as he smacks the pillow out of his face, letting it plop to the floor before he turns around and makes his way to his bedroom to think of the best way to bring this up to you without having to reveal that he accidentally read your diary.

“So, we’re meeting your friend here?” You ask your boyfriend as he opens the door to the sports bar for you before ushering you inside with a light slap to your ass.

“Mhm, my good friend and roommate, Eddie. He’ll be here soon.” Steve hoped he wasn’t being too obvious, although he did doubt you’d catch on without any significant reason to. His nerves were getting the best of him and he felt guilty for doing this behind your back, maybe he should talk to you about this first? But, he figured you could still just meet Eddie on a friendly basis without the added pressure of possibly choosing him to be a third.

Once the hostess sits you down at your table, an unfamiliar head of fluffy waves comes bounding through the crowd, his eyes scanning the restaurant before falling on Steve, who immediately stands up and waves a hand above his head, making Eddie roll his eyes at Steve’s dramatic gesture.

“Sup Harrington,” The metalhead greets before his eyes fall to you, sitting meekly with your hands in your lap and a nervous, tight smile on your face. Eddie couldn't be bothered to take his eyes off of you. He was stunned and it wasn't because he didn't think Steve could pull such a beautiful girl. No, obviously king steve could get whoever he wanted, this was because he too found you unbelievably beautiful and something that Eddie learned early on in his friendship with Steve was that they did not have the same taste in women which is why they never tried for a threesome before, but you oh your were the exception.

After the drinks were flowing through everyone’s veins and the pizza and wings had been devoured, conversation started out light-hearted with lots of banter between the boys. It was clear they were very good friends; how good was still up for debate but you could clearly see that they cared for each other which warmed your heart because Steve deserves all the love in the world. You had never met anyone like him and were grateful he essentially fell into your lap or more so came into your diner and asked for your number.

“So, what other fantasies were in this diary?” Eddie smirks as he looks between you and Steve with a playful, mischievous look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, confused about the question but your heart drops when you see Steve shut his eyes and bow his head as if Eddie just divulged a big secret and by his reaction you were pretty sure he did.

“Oh, was I- did she not- fuck.” Eddie’s shoulders slump and his smile fades as he looks at you and Steve with regretful eyes.

“You read my diary?” You ask, turning towards Steve as your voice tumbles out so sullen and soft, making both of their hearts ache.

“I’m-I’m sorry baby, I was gonna tell-” he begins before he’s being cut off by a now pissed off version of you.

“Wait, so this wasn’t me just meeting one of your friends because you genuinely wanted me to, this is because of the things I wrote in my diary? What, were you trying to set up some kind of threesome?” You scoff as both boys look down into their laps, you can feel the shame rolling off their backs and you couldn’t help the betrayal you felt.

“I’m gonna go, I need some time to think.” You say abruptly standing from the booth, but before you could take a step, they’re both stopping you.

“No, baby just let me take you home.”

“I can drive you home, princess.”

They say in unison, and as much as you wanted to stay and possibly entertain this thought of having a threesome, your humiliation wins over and you just need to get as far away from the both of them as possible.

“I’m fine, I’ll talk to you later.” You snap before making your way out of the restaurant, but instead of calling for a taxi like you probably should have, you impulsively decide to begin your three mile walk of shame back home.

You’ve been stewing in your own feelings of treachery for two days, and although you're still upset; thoughts of the frizzy haired metalhead haven’t left your mind. If it came down to really having this fantasy you have laid awake many nights thinking about, fulfilled; would you really want it to be with him, or more importantly them? The burning in your lower belly and the need to snap your legs together, gave that answer away fairly quickly.

As you settle onto your couch with your favorite spicy book in hand, the shrill ring of your house phone has you up within seconds. Your heart begins to beat frantically out of your chest at the thought of it being Steve on the other end, you weren’t sure if you were ready to forgive this whole mishap quite yet, even if you haven't stopped daydreaming about it.

“Hello?” Your voice comes out groggy, having not used it for hours as you’ve been cooped up in your apartment, feeling sorry for yourself about something that you were now questioning was as bad as you’ve made it seem.

“Hey.” The voice that comes out over the crackle of the phone speaker isn't Steves but it is familiar to you in the sense that you’d just heard it not even three days ago.

“Eddie?” You question with disbelief.

“Aw, you remembered princess.” You can hear his smug smirk through the red plastic you are now white knuckling.

“What’s up Eddie? Is Steve okay?” You ask, trying to politely move the conversation along.

“I mean he hasn’t eaten for two days and has been sulking in his room if that's what you're wondering.” The new information pulls at your heart strings, you truly didn't think Steve would be too sad over your decision for space; and although what he did wasn't entirely okay, you still wanted nothing more than to run and comfort him.

Eddie takes your silence as an excuse to keep going, “Um, well I was just calling to see if maybe I could come by and talk to you, please?” He breathes heavily into the speaker making you cringe at the loud crackle, you can hear the desperation to fix things in the tone of his voice.

“Yeah sure, we can talk.”

It takes Eddie 20 minutes to get to your apartment after you'd given him your address and safe wishes, which seemed to have taken him by surprise. What was the big deal with telling someone to ‘be safe’?

The knock at your door has your palms clammy, you couldn't deny the idea of seeing Eddie and being alone with him, made you nervous.

Maybe you weren’t as innocent in this as you thought.

“There she is.” The smile that graces the long haired boy’s face along with the rasp in his voice instantly has goosebumps spreading over your heated skin.

“Hi, um c-come in.” You stutter, moving from the doorway, your hand gripped tight on the doorknob in order to close it behind him.

“Nice place.” He says while his eyes roam over the living room, the wide smile never leaves his face until his chocolate orbs find yours.

“Thanks.” You give him a half smile before you're sitting back down on your couch. You bring your slouch sock clad feet up and tuck them underneath you, protectively as if some kind of defense mechanism. Eddie can’t help but think you’re the cutest fucking thing he’s ever seen.

“Sit. So what did you wanna talk about?” Your voice slightly trembles as you motion for the metalhead to sit down in the spot beside you.

“I came here to tell you that Stevie means well, he really would never do anything to hurt you. I swear. I’ve never seen him so upset over someone.” Eddie’s words come out in a jumbled panic as if he’s anxiously trying to get you to see things from another perspective, and before you can get a word in edgewise, he’s continuing. “He just thought it’d be a good idea since me and him used to bang, so I'm familiar, ya know? And he really wanted to make this ‘fantasy’ come true for you.” The way he so casually drops the bomb that him and Steve used to fuck, causes your eyes to grow as wide as saucers.

“Oh fuck! Did you not know that either? Jesus Christ nobody tells me anything, I-Im just gonna shut the fuck up.” He huffs a nervous laugh before running his hands through his brown waves that sit tousled down his mid back.

You wanted to scoff and say yeah, same. But decided against it once you caught a glimpse of his big glassy doe eyes.

“I’m sorry, I just thought because he came to me with the threesome thing and the shit about you watching us fuck around, I-I guess i just thought you had to at least know. I’m- fuck he’s gonna be so pissed at me if you break up with him over this.” Eddie's head falls into his hands before he begins to shake it out of pure disappointment in himself.

“Hey, I'd never break up with someone over their sexual past.” You say before scooting closer to his body and wrapping your arms around his torso to comfort him, the action causes your face to snuggle in close to his leather jacket covered chest that smells like a mixture of musky cologne, weed and cigarette smoke.

“God, you're such a special girl, you know that? I can see why he likes you so much.” Eddie mutters as his hand rubs gently in an up and down motion on your back.

You can’t help but to snuggle in deeper, as his soft touch and low purr of his voice, now lulls you to absolute comfort. You had never felt so safe in any other man's arms other than Steve’s, and the revelations from that fact and the one of Eddie and Steve having already had sex, causes the flames to lick up throughout your body and you already know the answer to whether you want them to be the ones to provide you with this fantasy.

“I wanna do it.” You say without much thought, the words are slightly muffled by Eddie’s jacket but he hears you loud and clear. His eyes widen in surprise as you look up at his face from where your head sits shyly hidden in his chest. Fuck, you were really doing things to him.

“Wanna do what, sweet girl?” He whispers down towards you before moving a stray strand of hair out of your face. He hopes you mean the threesome, but he’s not apposed to fucking you right here on your couch, steve be damned. But he immediately feels guilty at that thought.

“Being with you and Steve at the same time.” You whisper as you blink up at him with a nervous look in your eyes.

“No, no. Say what you really want, princess. Go ahead.” Eddie says back, but this time with a more domineering edge. His thumb swipes over your bottom lip ever so slightly, before he’s rubbing it along your jawline. “You can do it for me, baby. Just say it.”

His face is within inches of yours and you want to kiss him so badly but you also want to give him what he’s asking for.

“I want you and Steve to use me and fuck my holes.” You purr back before bashfully biting at the plump skin of your bottom lip.

Eddie almost chokes on his spit, he was expecting you to say something along the lines of “I want you and Steve to fuck me.” But him and his cock weren’t prepared for “use me and fuck my holes.” Jesus fucking Christ.

“It’s taking everything inside of me to hold back from kissing you right now, angel.” Eddie says as he tries to steady his breathing. “But we’ll save that for later, alright? Call Steve first and then we’ll go from there.” Eddie says before placing a sweet kiss to the top of your head. He stands up and bids you a farewell before awkwardly walking to your front door with a rock hard cock between his legs.

“Hello-” Steve’s hoarse voice croaks out from the other end of the landline.

“Steve, baby? Can we talk?”

You and Steve mutually agreed that your talk would be better to do in person, so he invited you over to the frat house, so you could sit down and talk with him and Eddie. Once you are ready to go, diary in hand. Your excitement from getting to see them, quickly turns to anxious nerves.

This was all so new to you, you wondered if you and Steve's relationship would change? Or how things would be with you and Eddie? What if Steve and Eddie realize they have feelings for each other in the process and leave you in the dust? So many things you never had to think about when this was just your fantasy.

Well you suppose those were all questions you could bring up to them once they were in front of you. You tried your best to not dwell on the unknown, although that was so much easier said than done.

You pull up to the large brick house that sits on a huge grassy lawn. The fraternities greek letter badge sits proudly above the porch. You swallow down your nerves as you grab your bag and head towards the big iron gate that sits wide open, you walk through it leaving yourself no room to hesitate before climbing up the two steps towards the front door.

You knock three times, crossing your arms over your chest when you glanced down and realized how much your cleavage was almost spilling from your shirt.

“Come in!” A voice yells from the other side, making you freeze for a few seconds while a lump forms in your throat at the idea of just walking into someone else’s home. Before you can reach out towards the doorknob, it’s being opened for you and a set of sad, downturned hazel eyes meet yours.

“Hey.” Is all he says before he’s ushering you inside.

Once in, you can’t help but to look around. It’s huge and cleaner then you thought it’d be, considering it houses about a dozen or so guys.

Steve can see the nervousness in your eyes, so he eases it by letting you know he was the only one home and that Eddie would be back any minute now.

“Do you wanna sit in the living room or go up to my room?” Steve asks, as his head slightly perks up with excitement, more so hopeful than anything else.

“Your room is cool.” You say with an awkward nod.

His room was nothing like you’d expected, there were tons of posters all over the walls: cars, bands and naked girls were the theme. You figured it had to do with the excessive masculine facade you had to put on to be part of one of these fraternities.

Steve looks around with you and smiles sheepishly as your eyes meet a poster of two semi naked girls kissing, while one girl has her hand in the other girl's black panties.

You smile in amusement before taking a seat on his big bed, while Steve leans against his wooden desk directly in front of you.

“I-Im so sorry, baby.” He sniffles, his sad eyes melting your heart as he continues. “I promise you, I didn’t go through your diary on purpose, it just fell and when I went to pick it up it was on that page, I-I just couldn’t look away after I seen what was in it, and that’s my fault, a-and I should’ve never went to eddie behind your back. I’ll do anything to make it up to you. I just- being without you for these past couple days I realized that I-I love you. And I know we haven't been dating for very long but, I think I’ve known from the moment we stayed up all night on the phone the first very first time, I just knew then that I was gonna fall in love with you.” He unveils, making your breath hitch.

“You love me?” You murmur hesitantly.

“I do. So much, honey.” It’s so sincere, as if he didn’t even have to give it a second thought.

You're up and rushing towards him within seconds, wrapping him up into a big hug. His arms instantly move to the small of your back and before you know it, he’s picking you up. He walks towards the bed, sitting down on the plush mattress before adjusting your legs to straddle his lap.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, baby. These lips, your voice, your beautiful smile. God, I drove myself crazy just thinking about you.” He confesses, and his low husky timber goes straight between your thighs.

“I missed you, too.” You utter as your hands play mindlessly with his brown locks. You look down into his hazel eyes from where you were sat, perched in his lap. “I love you.” The weight that's been removed from your chest with your revelation, feels euphoric. Especially when Steve's lashes flutter and a pretty smile begins to stir on his once saddened face.

Your boyfriend's fingertips dig into your waist as his grip tightens, holding you close to him in fear of losing you again. His desperation, palpable.

“Fuck, you just made me the happiest man alive.” He whispers, a wide smile taking over his face as he snuggles his head, lovingly into your chest.

“Steve?” You whisper back, hands never leaving his fluffy mane.

“What is it, honey?” He asks, his eyes snapping back up to yours with curiosity.

“I wanna do the threesome.” You quickly blurt, before cowering away when you noticed how wide his eyes had gotten.

“Baby, n-no. You don’t have to do anything you're uncomfortable with. You can just keep it as a fantasy. If it’s something you’d like to do in the future, then we can talk about it then. I'm not gonna lose you again.” He sighs, closing the small gap between your bodies by possessively bringing you chest to chest with him, as his grip tightens to a nearly painful level, causing you to whimper.

“I um, I know about you and Eddie.” You admit, feeling his body tense beneath you. The look in his eyes is a mixture of fear and longing.

“He told you?” It comes out sharper than he intended, but that wasn't for Eddie to confess. You were his, he should've been the one to tell you his secrets.

“Trust me, he didn’t mean to. He seemed to be just as in the dark about things as I was.” You tease gently.

Steve’s eyes fill with regret at your words, “I know, and I’m sorry baby. So fucking sorry.” He murmurs into your skin before he’s attacking your chest with kisses.

“I forgive you, Stevie.” You insist, silently trying to work up the nerve to say what you really want to say. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” The boy beneath you scrunches his face up in confusion. You take a shuddering breath before you continue. “You and Eddie together.”

He sighs, eyes slightly darkening before he's smirking up at you. “That get you goin’, pretty girl?”

“Mmhm, I touched myself thinking about it.” Your confession has Steve’s eyes blowing wide with lust.

“Mmm, played with that pretty little pussy to the thought of what? Hm, me getting fucked?” He groans when you can’t help but to grind your now throbbing center against his growing erection.

Before things have a chance to heat up any further, Eddie pops his head in through the doorway, making you and Steve jump and gasp at the intrusion.

“Sorry for interrupting.” Eddie says glumly, “should I uh, go?” He points his thumb behind his shoulder towards the door, but you can clearly see from the look in his eyes that the last thing he wants to do is leave.

“No, c’mere.” You encourage but Eddie hesitates for a moment, before he begins taking a few steps over to you and Steve. He stands right behind you, making you beam at him from over your shoulder.

“Princess over here was just telling me something very interesting.” Steve snickers up at the metalhead, who's looking down at both of you with intense affection.

“Oh yeah? And what was that, pretty boy?” Eddie asks, his eyes never leaving the side of your face.

“She said she touched her tight little cunt while she thought about you fucking me.” Steve’s once hazel eyes are now black and staring you down like a hungry predator.

“That true, sweet thing?” Eddie returns, before taking your chin between his fingers and bringing your face closer towards his, for a better view.

“Yes sir.” It slips out between your lips without much thought, but the men on either side of you groan in satisfaction. Now, you’re able to feel the metalheads hardening cock poke at your lower back.

“Before we start, I um, I brought something.” You admit before hopping off of Steve’s lap and out of the perfect little sandwich they had created on either side of you.

You dig through your bag that you had set down on Steve’s dresser, retrieving the object that brought you to this very moment. You turn back towards the boys, realizing their gaze hasn't left you since you first stood up. You clutch the black leather book to your chest as Steve and Eddie’s eyes follow you with curious mischief.

“Want you to look through this together, so you can, maybe see some things I’d like to try, since we’re crossing one fantasy off the list.” You hold it out for one of them to take, Eddie moves quicker than Steve, eagerly ripping the diary from your hands.

“Hey, she's my girlfriend.” The possessiveness in the honey eyed boy's voice, has you biting at your lip from how hot you find it.

“She’s ours tonight, big boy.” Eddie retorts, and you don’t want to admit how much the word ours, has your tummy swooping with excitement.

Eddie cackles at Steve's face before he’s taking a seat beside him, so close their thighs are touching.

“Let’s see here.” Eddie sings, as he quickly flips through the more boring pages of random writings and doodles. Until a page finally captures his attention. “Ah ha.” He says with a sly grin, as his finger follows after every word he’s reading.

“Being dominated and degraded, huh?” The long haired boy beams up at you from beneath his lashes, as if he were seeing you in a new light.

“Has Stevie ever done any of this stuff?” Eddie asks curiously, no judgment behind his words.

You shake your head no while Steve stays silent, his cheeks pinkening in the process.

“Yeah, baby boy’s more submissive, isn't he? Used to get so hard when I’d boss him around.” Eddie sighs as if in some far off memory.

Steve’s not quite used to talking about being with a man in front of you or any woman, for that matter so his shoulders tense at Eddie’s confession. You quickly ease him by running your hand along his jaw, and up into his hair, before grabbing and tugging harshly, surprising both boys with the abrupt switch.

“Is that true, baby? You like being bossed around?” Steve begins to stammer as his eyes grow glossy with desire.

“Fuck, I’m gonna have a lot of fun with the both of you.” Eddie smirks as he shakes his head in disbelief.

After the boys had taken their time kissing you, and getting you all worked up and whimpering for them. They began taking your clothes off. Both of them moaning when the fact that you hadn’t been wearing a bra or panties was revealed.

Once their gawking and dirty words had stopped, you and Eddie began working on pulling all of Steve’s clothes off, leaving you both stark naked; all the while Eddie was fully dressed in his black and leather.

“Get on your knees, both of you.” He demands, and you and Steve obey with no questions asked; like good little pets. Eddie was so achingly hard from just that thought alone.

You and your boyfriend worked together to get the metalheads belt and jeans undone and down his creamy thighs. His hard cock bobbing out between yours and Steve's face. Your eyes widen at the size, but Steve pays no mind to it; reminding you that they’ve already done this, you're the one that's new here. To your surprise, there was no jealousy in that conclusion.

“Open.” Eddie demands again, leaving you and Steve to submit to his every order, and you both do without any hesitation. Opening up your mouths and lulling your tongues out in the process, leaving Eddie to slap his fat leaking tip against your wet and pink, pillowy muscles.

The long haired boy above you, growls as his eyes take in the sight before him. You and Steve are on your knees for him with your tongues out, allowing him to slap his throbbing cock against them. He’s had his share of threesomes, but none have ever made him feel like this.

Steve finally has enough of the teasing, eagerly wrapping his lips around Eddie’s tip and sucking before he swallows it down to the hilt with no problem. Seeing your boyfriend take Eddie so perfectly, has you grinding your hips against nothing. Desperately wanting to move your hand between your thighs and rub at your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Share with your girlfriend Stevie, no need to be greedy. There's enough of me to go around.” Eddie insists, with his signature devilish smirk.

“Shut the fuck up.” Steve retorts, making you laugh at their boyish banter.

Steve looks at you with a bashful smile, before he’s wrapping his hand around Eddie’s shaft and bringing it closer to your awaiting mouth.

“Go ahead, suck his cock, baby.” Steve affirms, as if you needed the encouragement. You wrap your lips around Eddie, hungirly taking him as far back as you could.

You find a steady pace, bobbing your head up and down on him as you twist your hand along the inches you can’t take.

“Oh fuck. That’s a good girl.” Eddie groans, fisting your hair into a ponytail. He takes the bottom of his band tee and sticks it between his teeth, and your eyes flicker up to the trail of hair that leads up to his belly button and over his toned abs. You realize as his whole torso is on display, that he has both of his pink, pebbled nipples pierced.

“You’re both so fucking greedy for this cock, jesus.” Eddie huffs, but he’s the complete opposite of upset or annoyed, fuck no. He’s vibrating, the most excited and turned on he’s probably ever been in his life.

“Open your mouths, hands behind your back.” Another demand you both follow instantly.

Eddie grabs the end of his shaft in his hand and fucks into Steve’s mouth, four thrusts in and he’s removing himself and bringing his cock to your lips. He goes back and forth between your throats, as spit drips off of his dick and into puddles on the floor.

“Up.” He says with a stern vibrato.

“You. lay on the bed with your head upside down, I want it hanging off the edge.” He says, and you make quick work at following his orders.

“Good girl.” He whispers sweetly, before bending down and catching your lips in a dirty, hunger filled kiss.

“Alright, I want you to fuck her wet little cunt while I fuck her throat. How’s that sound, big boy?”

Steve nods his head in agreement, as an excited smile and hungry eyes find your awaiting, pliant body. Your boyfriend climbs over you, nestling himself between your thighs. He brings two fingers between your legs and rubs at your folds, gauging whether or not he needs to get you wetter for him. But to his contentment, you're already soaked and dripping. He grabs his hard, leaking cock and rubs it along your slit before breaching your hole.

“Mmm.” Steve hums in delight, as he reaches the depths of your pussy, so warm and tight.

Eddie begins to slide his cock between your lips, and you're quickly being filled at both ends. You can't help but to relish in it, the fantasy you’ve had for years, playing out before your very eyes, with you as a participant. The thought had you growing wetter and your throat relaxing while both boys pounded into you.

“She takes cock so well, doesn't she?” You hear Steve question above you.

“So fucking good, she’s got my goddamn legs shaking from this tight little throat.” Eddie growls as he thrusts harder with each word. You hear the smacking of their lips, as they both groan and whimper between tongue filled kisses.

“Shit, shit. I gotta stop or I'm gonna come.” Eddie pants, removing himself as quickly as possible.

He couldn't let this be over, yet.

Steve pulls out too, looking to Eddie for his next command.

“Princess wants to watch us mess around, then that's what princess is gonna get.” Eddie says, throwing you a wicked smile, as he moves in closer to Steve. He grabs his cock and fists it before crashing their lips back together.

You move towards the top of the bed, for the perfect view. But also to be out of their way, you didn't want there to be any distractions from this.

They start out kissing and stroking each other's cocks. Their tongues lapping together, sloppily as desperate moans flow through the room.

Your fingers find their way between your thighs, the tips move in a circle over your throbbing bud and you bite at your lip as your eyes never leave the scene in front of you.

Eddie now has Steve on all fours, while the metalhead stands behind him. He falls to his knees, before bringing his tongue to the other boy's rim. He fucks him with it, making Steve mewl all the while his eyes bore into yours. You can tell he’s so turned on; his hair is a mess, his face is flushed and his eyes are glossed over with desire. The long haired boy begins prodding at your boyfriend's hole with his fingers, stretching him out enough to take his cock that is now aching, painfully.

“You ready to give our girl a show, Stevie?” Eddie murmurs into his ear, while his eyes finally take in the image of you, laid out for them; legs spread wide as you touch yourself. He can’t help but want you closer.

“Come help me, baby.” Eddie insists, as he rubs his cock against Steve’s hole.

“Yes, sir.” You purr, crawling across the bed before you're stopping just beside him.

“Such a good girl.” He praises as both boys watch your every movement. “Hold his ass open for me, can you do that, sweetheart?” You nod at his words.

“Yes sir, I can do that.” And you do, grabbing at both of Steve’s plump cheeks and pulling them apart, as the metalhead begins pushing into his tight hole. They both groan in unison as Eddie buries himself inside the pliant boy beneath him.

“Fuck, that looks so good.” You can't help but utter as you stare at the way Steve stretches around Eddie.

“Yeah? Like the way your boyfriend's tight little hole looks getting stuffed with my big cock?” He grunts, his hips speeding up as he fucks Steve with a force that knocks the wooden headboard repeatedly into the wall.

Steve’s drooling and whimpering into the mattress, as his eyes roll back with pleasure. Eddie’s cock has been hitting his prostate dead on and he’s so close to coming.

“I, I'm gonna come.” Steve whines.

“No. You’re. Not.” Eddie growls, as he slowly pulls out of the warm, tight hole that has always taken his cock so perfectly.

“Pretty girl deserves to be fucked too, doesn’t she?” The older boy smirks, slapping the round globe of Steve’s ass.

“Switch places.” Eddie commands.

You bend over, ass up in the air; mimicking the exact position your boyfriend was just in.

“Jesus, you’ve got some real pretty holes, baby.” Eddie cooed, as his thumbs spread you out.

“You ever played with her little asshole, Harrington?” He asks, before spitting a glob right onto your puckered hole.

“Just with my fingers.” Steve admits, bashfully.

“That’s a shame. We’ll have to change that another time, but right now I’m dying to stretch out this little cunt. Fuck, she’s dripping. Just begging to be fucked.” He boasts, then he’s sinking his two middle fingers into your cunt, all the while he rubs his thumb over your spit filled asshole.

He works his fingers inside of you, almost immediately finding your sweet spot, which instantly has you whining and biting at the bed sheets.

“Fuck yeah, so fucking ready for me.” Eddie murmurs under his breath, before he’s removing his fingers and replacing them with his much bigger cock. “Mmm, fuck.” He groans as his head falls back and a sigh of pleasure leaves his parted lips.

Steve sits with his back against the headboard as he watches your bodies move together so effortlessly. He can't take it anymore, so he starts palming at his needy cock as he watches the two people he cares about most, captivate and pleasure each other.

“Get your ass over here, big boy. Come fuck her mouth for me.”

Steve’s moving before the demand fully leaves Eddie’s mouth, making you both giggle at his desperation. “With pleasure.” The honey eyed boy marvels, as he lays down with you between his thighs. His sensitive tip sits just inches from your lips, so you grab it and incase him in your wet mouth as you begin to suck him off with gusto.

They both begin to fuck into you, like they did when this all first started. Your wetness drips down both sets of balls, and Steve can’t take his eyes off of the way you're working his cock in and out of your mouth. Your eyes are watering and spit is dripping from your chin before you take him all the way back into your throat. You shake your head, making him whimper as his eyes roll back.

“Need to feel you, Stevie.” Eddie groans, “help me stretch her little pussy out.” He’s practically begging the pretty boy, and your body slightly tenses at the idea of both of them inside of you, stretching you out together.

“That okay, sweet girl?” Steve asks you, tenderly.

“Please.” Is all you can mewl, as you tighten around Eddie.

“Oh yeah, she’s very okay with it.” Eddie teases, as he brings both palms down harshly slapping at your ass, while he waits for Steve to make his way underneath you.

Finally, he sheethes his cock in right alongside his roommates. Stretching you out to maximum capacity, and you can’t hold back the loud moans and sobs that are ripped from your throat.

Once the sharp pain is gone and you're used to the stretch, they begin snapping their hips in unison. The feeling is so indescribable, as both cocks rub together inside of you. You're all so wet and slippery and both boys are incredibly hard, but they only grow harder as their tips rub together between your walls.

“Oh fuck, fuck fuck fuck, want you fill this pussy up with me, baby.” Eddie groans as he talks directly to Steve. His words cause you to clench around them.

“I'm gonna come, please don’t stop. Please don't come yet.” You babble.

“We're not coming until you do, honey.” Steve chokes, trying not to moan and curse as you tighten up even more, pushing their cocks together with force.

Eddie wraps your hair around his knuckles and pulls, causing your head to snap back as your eyes meet his, upside down.

“You gonna come on our cocks? Hm? Make a fucking mess on us.” He encourages.

Both boys' hands fall to your hips, right over each other as they bring you down harder on their dicks, that are so close to exploding.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You squeal as your body begins to jerk and shake with intensity. You come so hard you almost black out, falling onto Steve's chest. He snuggles you in closer, holding you tight as him and Eddie continue to fuck into you. Two sets of expletives fall from their mouths as their cocks twitch against each other and they empty their balls deep inside of you.

You all fall into a heap of tangled limbs, as you and both boys fight to catch your breath. Everyones silent for a few minutes, trying to take in the events that just took place.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two alone.” Eddie mumbles with sorrowful eyes, as if he’d felt like he worn out his welcome.

“No, stay.” You and Steve mutually implore.

“You want me to stay?” He asks, unsure if it was a good idea.

“We want you to stay.”

★ 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

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sunderwight · 1 month

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SV AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates into a dragon.

It's not so bad, at first. He's an extremely magical sort of dragon so he can easily take on a humanoid shape, and he has dominion over an entire mountain, with a magical gate that leads to his palace. Said palace has a fully stocked treasury, a library, garden, etc, with the only real downsides being that the place is kind of huge and very difficult for a neet with limited housekeeping or landscaping skills to keep up with. The original dragon had enslaved a bunch of fairy spirits to do it for him, but since Shen Yuan has moral objections to that, he'd let them all go and they'd run off before he could even think to offer to hire any of them as paid employees instead. Not that he can blame them for being in a hurry to get gone.

He does his best, and generally enjoys being a dragon lazing on his mountain, or wandering the beauty of his palace and investigating the books and scrolls kept there. He doesn't actually seem to need to eat or drink, so that's not really an issue, and nobody looks keen to bother him. But after a few months the dust starts to really pile up, and trying to figure out how to do his own laundry without modern equipment leads to several disasters, and even though he doesn't need to eat he's starting to think it would be quite nice to have a fancy sit-down dinner and enjoy it for its own sake anyway. He has an enchanted larder but his food prep skills aren't up to much.

So, Shen Yuan ventures away from his mountain. He keeps to his human disguise when he's not traveling, and at first tries to hire on some help from a nearby city. But when he explains that he lives on the mountain, he realizes the difficulty, because everyone in the area knows that only the dragon lives there. So they all think he's either a liar or a fraud, or some servant of a nefarious supernatural creature angling to trick and possibly devour them.

Shen Yuan tries approaching another town in his dragon form, to see if anyone will actually deal with him if he's being upfront and honest about the situation, but the townspeople just panic. He returns to his mountain to rethink his strategies, and in the meanwhile the alarmed locals hire a swordsman to go after him. The guy gives him a few very painful cuts before Shen Yuan mostly-accidentally sends him careening into a boulder. One broken arm later the swordsman is gently persuaded that the pay he was offered isn't worth the effort on this job, and leaves.

Discouraged, Shen Yuan decides he's gonna give this one last try. He picks the second closest city, flies up, and is like yes hello, yes I am indeed a dragon, no I'm not trying to burn down your walls, yes it would be excellent if you stopped shooting arrows at me, look they don't even get past the scales? It's kind of silly? Okay, yes, thank you very much. Good. Now, the thing is, I'm looking for some people. I want to take them back to my mountain with me, to my incredibly nice palace, and -- what was that? A princess? No no I don't want a princess, what would I even do with one? If anything I'm looking for the complete opposite of a princess!

Anyway, the locals take this to mean that the dragon is demanding a sacrifice in the form of a pretty boy of no particular pedigree, and Shen Yuan takes this to mean that he's finally made his case clear and they're going to dig up someone who is willing to overlook his being a dragon in exchange for free room and board and fair wages out of his massive treasury.

SY's a bit disheartened when the entire city could only apparently turn up one such person -- an underfed teenage boy who looks at Shen Yuan like, despite the situation, he is still expecting to be eaten at any moment. Poor thing! But at least having one servant means he can potentially get more, especially if it all goes well. The lad can tell others that working for a dragon isn't so bad! Well, provided that he doesn't give up in alarm at the state of the mountain palace.

For his part, Luo Binghe at first thinks he's definitely going to get eaten, and then that this dragon is weirdly nice about planning to eat him, and then that maybe the dragon has other (even less savory!) plans for him, until finally he sees the state of the dragon's laundry and the foot-thick layer of dust in the corners, and gets completely distracted. Mortal terror forgotten, those floors should not be that filthy, Lord Dragon respectfully that isn't how anyone should prepare rice either, but oh Binghe has never seen a kitchen so nice before in his life...!

Anyway, needless to say, it works out just fine.

#svsss #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain #bingqiu #this is luo binghe's palace now shen qingqiu just lives there #the only hiccup is that binghe is strangely bad at convincing anyone else to come work at the palace #shen qingqiu encouraged him to assist in finding other help but somehow binghe always comes up empty handed #oh well guess they'll have to continue living there just the two of them with no one else #(this eventually does change but binghe sulks for WEEKS about it)

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munsonthings86 · 4 months

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sunshine

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: a love-struck steve cooks you dinner for the first time

warnings: cursing, alcohol, bit of backstory, oversimplified summary, steve's parents kinda suck (when do they not), best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, soft!steve

an: i think this is my favorite thing i’ve ever written. i'm so in love with these two. i hope you all enjoy this one as much as i do. * don’t copy my work * (also pretend there's a big city near hawkins for the sake of this pls)

wc: 6.0k

“Ow!” Steve hissed, nicking his finger yet again as he made his best effort to dice pesky onions. The knife was razor-sharp as it was fresh out of its packaging, having never been used yet. Frustrated, he squeezed the band-aid he'd spent a solid ten minutes looking for, tighter on his finger, earning a harsh sting.

"Goddamned knife," he whispered, tightlipped, but as soon as the complaint left his lips he wished to yank it back in. It was the chef's knife you'd bought him along with many other thoughtful housewarming gifts to celebrate Steve moving into his first apartment. Steve had insisted that you return some of the gifts, noting that "one gift was more than he could ever ask for".

In spite of his pleas, you didn't return a single gift. Of course, you didn't. You had bought items you knew Steve would need but would ultimately forget to buy for himself. Just to name a few, you'd gotten him a trash bin for his bathroom, a record player, and the best utensil set that the rest of your Family Video paycheck could buy.

Peering at the odd assortment of household objects you'd lugged into his barren apartment with a bright smile pulling at the corners of your lips, an expression of gratitude and bewilderment claimed his face. Steve's round, chestnut-brown eyes ogled yours as you ranted and raved, explaining your thought process behind each purchase.

The record player was for nights like these. Peaceful nights indoors, simply enjoying each other's company without the tense presence of his parents who would shout for him to turn that damn music down if he even thought about letting the needle hit the groove of the record.

"Now we can play music as loud and as much as we want to," he remembered you saying, blushing at your use of the word "we". Though you two were only best friends and have been since grade school, Steve couldn't help but fantasize about a life with you. You, drowning in one of his bigger-than-you t-shirts, prancing around the apartment as you listened to some your favorite records.

He'd begun pondering on how he would rearrange the bit of furniture he had, that'd allow for space for your belongings as well, before you lured him out of his thoughts, defending the bin.

From what he gathered, you bought the garbage bin due to his burning inability to keep his bathroom clean. Steve was someone who took great care of his appearance, always well-kempt and attentive to even the smallest of details.

His bathroom did not reflect this, whatsoever. He had a bad habit of harboring empty cans and bottles of Farrah Fawcett spray that littered the already limited counter space he had in his en suite bathroom.

Steve was such a boy when it came to tidiness.

Everyone knew that about Steve, though. What they didn’t know, however, was how skilled he was in a kitchen. After being left to his lonesome whenever his parents would venture off to one of their many business trips, Steve spent his nights learning to cook after his allowance dwindled and he couldn't afford pizza delivery anymore. The second he'd clock in for his shift at Family Video, he'd make a beeline to where you stood, stocking VHS tapes, and instantly began buzzing and bustling about the new recipe he tried the night before.

You had begged him to let you come over one night to taste one of his home-cooked meals, but his response was always the same. "You can't rush perfection, sweets. But I promise, when I'm ready to grace the world with my master chef skills, you'll be the first to know."

You would roll your eyes dramatically at him but admittedly, you felt a sense of pride wash over you whenever Steve would tell you about his cooking endeavors. It may not seem like a big deal to others, but you knew how much his parents being so negligent, so often, bothered him.

Though they were never the most warm and affectionate, there seemed to be a colder chill and heavier sense of loneliness in the house when they were gone. That's why you never denied Steve whenever he'd call late at night asking if it was okay to spend the night at your house.

He always felt at home there.

Steve learning to cook for himself meant that his parents' absence was finally beginning to help him grow; no longer craving validation and tenderness from his family. He got that when he was with you. That's what the utensil set was for. A silent sign saying that though his parents weren't there, you were.

"Don't get me wrong, sunshine, I love the gift, but why's this knife so funny looking?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes at the sharp object that looked like it was from some alien universe. It had three square-like holes infiltrating the blade, and the tip came to an up-turned point that split in two. The handle was the only average looking part about it.

"That, my friend, is a cheese knife," you answered matter-of-factly, gazing at the box that had all of the included utensils neatly labeled.

"They make knives specifically for cheese?"

"Apparently, yeah," you snorted, tossing the empty box off to the side of the room with the other discarded cardboard that you made a mental note to move to the recycling bin on your way out. Steve never recycled. Bad habit he picked up from his parents, you figured.

"Well, I can't wait to use my weird new knife. Thank you. Seriously," Steve smiled softly as he watched you with those big brown eyes that voiced his gratitude and sentiment louder than his words ever could.

"The best weird chef has to have the best weird equipment. You're welcome," you grinned, toying with the loose thread dangling from your distressed band tee, as your eyes collided with Steve’s.

Looking at Steve was hard.

In the midst of quiet and almost intimate moments like these, the nerves bolting through your body screamed at you to look anywhere else, but the greed of your heart yearned for you to keep drinking in the deep chocolate pools that were Steve Harrington's eyes.

The two of you gazed at each other for another second, though it felt identical to a blissful eternity, until Steve furrowed his eyebrows after registering what you'd just uttered. "Did you just call me weird?" He asked, hand on his hip as if he's offended, though he truthfully isn't because he's positive you're infinitely weirder than he is, and he's more than willing to debate with you for hours on that topic.

"Nooo," you sang, quickly turning away to distract yourself with some unpacking that Steve had called you over to help him with, which you happily agreed to. A little extra time with him was time well spent.

"Yeah, okay," he rolled his eyes. He happily tucked away the flashy silverware he'd poached from his parent's kitchen into the darkest corner of the drawer, leaving the less flashy but much more appreciated utensils you bought him, front and center, ready to be shown off.

"Oh those? My best friend got them for me. Aren't they nice? Did you know they make knives for cheese?" He imagined himself saying, hoping he'd get the opportunity to boast about them to his guests some time soon.

Steve smiled to himself at the memory, angling the cutting board that harbored a pile of diced onions that he'd at last conquered, into a bowl, sliding them off with the blade of a knife that was a lot less odd shaped compared to his trusty cheese knife. It didn't even have to be that specific memory. It could've been any imagery of you being the effortlessly sarcastic, intelligent, breath-taking person that you were, and it would be the warm light to inevitably guide him out of whatever dark mood that dared to plague him.

Steve was so helplessly in love with you.

April 14, 1978, he could never forget the day, was particularly dreary. So dreary it made Steve begin to question why the spring time was thought to be such a radiant, pleasant season when all it ever did was bring rain and provoke people with allergies. Steve slammed his blaring alarm off with a groan, never bothering to pry open his tired eyes.

The sky was dark and dreadful, concealing the golden rays of the sun he yearned to see. As he trudged through the house, reluctantly gearing himself up for yet another torturous day of middle school, Steve silently prayed for some unorthodox happenstance that would call for the canceling of school.

But much to his dismay, that wasn't the case.

When the bell pierced through the classroom speakers, alerting the beginning of Steve's favorite class, P.E., he rushed to the locker room, jumping into his gym uniform, as he was determined to continue his unfaltering streak of dodgeball victories.

Steve was in the zone, taking out his opponents left and right as if it was nothing. If dodgeball was an Olympic sport, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he could've won multiple gold medals.

Then you came.

Sauntering into sixth grade gym class, adorning a lengthy, bright yellow dress with your hair done up, looking as anxious as can be. It was your first day at Hawkins Middle and you'd just transferred halfway into the semester, all thanks to your parents decision to move to the small town, leaving New York City and all your friends behind.

Everyone turned their curious heads to peer at you, whispering amongst each other, prompting you to clutch your books tighter to your chest as if to shield yourself. Your soft smile as you looked around at your new classmates instantly made Steve's chest and stomach warm and gooey inside, making him want nothing more than to walk up to you and convince you to be his friend. Steve hated how gossipy his classmates were, as it clearly made you uncomfortable, but he couldn't bring himself to look away either.

The way the illuminous medallion hue complimented your skin tone was nothing short of art. To him, you were the sun personified. The sun he was so eager to see.

Due to your lack of sports attire, Coach Daniels had you sit on the bleachers, watching as the other kids resumed their game of dodgeball after mumbling a "warm" welcome to you, per Coach's request.

Steve lost his first game of dodgeball that day. He just couldn't seem to focus when you were perched just a few feet away, thumbing through your withered book, looking like one of the prettiest girls he'd ever laid his adolescent eyes on. Steve, or the boy with the hella good hair as you dubbed him in your diary later on that night, was too enamored with you to be bothered by the taunts coming from his friends. He jogged over to you, offering to keep you company until fourth period began, which you happily accepted.

And ever since then, the two of you have been as thick as thieves.

"Hawkins PD, open up!" Steve recognized your muffled voice, though you deepened it, to imitate a police officer. Your signature three knocks followed, urging butterflies to erupt throughout his stomach, as he longed to see you. It couldn't have been more than twenty-four hours since the two of you had last seen each other, but even one hour without you was an hour way too long for poor Steve.

"It's open", Steve called, tossing a hand towel over his shoulder, setting the stove ablaze, planting a pot over the flame. Right on time, he thought.

"Hey, Harrington," you smiled as you struggled to enter, cradling two bottles of rosé wine and your purse in your arms, pushing the door open with the help of your hip.

"Hey, sunshine. Lemme get those for ya," Steve offered, stowing your bearings on the counter gently, while you kicked your shoes off, mumbling a "thanks".

A warm amber light casted from the ceiling of the kitchen spilled into the shadowy living room a few feet away, like a neglected can of paint. The only thing that remained un-melted by the darkness was the quiet record player, as if the generous light knew you'd be looking for it the minute you walked in.

"How was your day?" Steve smirked as he watched you rush over to the object he swore was the only reason you liked to come over, sifting through the vinyl's searching for your favorite one. What’s Love Got To Do With It by Tina Turner. Steve spotted it before you did. Absentmindedly, you responded, “Not too shabby, ya know? How was yours?”

“Yeah, it was alright.”

You crouched down to the two tier storage table, running a finger across the spines of the records, searching for your beloved song. It quickly became the song you most adored when you'd bought the tape for your Walkman a few years prior. Your days weren't complete unless you played the song at least twice, so much so that Steve found himself quietly humming the song to himself whenever he'd miss you. He even caught himself doing that dumb little finger dance you normally did whenever you listened to a song you really liked. He'd never tell you that, though.

Much to your dismay, you couldn't seem to spy that sneaky record. You dropped your hand disappointedly, faintly fearsome that it'd been misplaced. Steve's apartment wasn't huge, but it wasn't exactly tidy either. “It’s right there, sweets. To your left.” So you diverted your attention to the left. No Tina Turner. “No, your other left.”

“Here?” you pointed. Steve hummed in confirmation.

“Well, that’s not the left, Steve. That’s the right,” was your response that you punctuated with a roll of your tired eyes. Apart from knowing how to get to Skull Rock with his eyes closed, the boy had zero sense of direction. It was something you found both endearing and infuriating. It depended on the day, really.

“Potato, potahto.” Oh, Steve. Melting butter into the burning pan in front of him that he almost completely forgot about, all thanks to your beautiful presence, he began sautéing his diced onions along with some fresh garlic. "Well, speaking of 'potahtoes' you need to be cooking some, 'cause you promised me dinner tonight," you smiled tight-lipped, cocking your head at an angle.

You felt the unpleasant sensation of your stomach growling, cursing you, at the heavenly thought of food as your shift at Family Video earlier today was unforgiving to your non-existent breakfast. You fumbled with the vinyl a bit as the mouthwatering aroma of home cooking stormed your senses and Steve spoke once more. "Feisty today, aren't we?"

"Just a tad," you laughed quietly.

"Well, I hate to disappoint you but tonight we're not having potatoes. I'm making your favorite," he pointed, shuffling the pan to give it a gentle stir. He made sure to turn to face you in time to see your hopefully delighted reaction. "Alfredo?!" you spun around with a glittering grin, almost knocking over Steve's plant. A fake one, of course. A real plant was a bit too much responsibility for him.

At the nod of his head, your cheesy smile soften to a smaller, less toothy one as you watched Steve while he resumed cooking. What you failed to share with your best friend was that the last phrase you'd actually use to describe your day was "not too shabby". Besides waking up almost an entire hour past the start of your shift (Keith made sure to give you an earful about that) and everyone and their mother in town deciding to be at Family Video today, it seemed like your day was never-ending. The only thing keeping your mood from turning stink to sour was the idea of going to see Steve.

Steve was kind of magical in that way. Anger, sadness, anxiety, you name it, it was no match for Steve. Though he was no poet, he had this way with words that would never fail to make you feel so comforted. So safe. Any instance where Steve had to talk you out of whatever mental turmoil you were enduring, it felt you were being endlessly wrapped in a cozy, tight blanket, sheltering you from all the darkness.

How Steve knew you were having a shit day and needed your favorite meal along with your favorite boy? Lord knows. His ability to read you without even needing to be near you was nothing short of wizardry. But like you said. Steve was magical.

"You're the best," you proclaimed, prompting a mumbled sly remark from your chef for the evening, before the music began. Being here, along with the divine sound of Tina's ethereal voice and pasta boiling in water, was more than enough to make you feel like you were right at home, though your true address was miles away. When the time to depart would make its cursed arrival, it was never easy to leave, especially with the way Steve begged for you to stay, using those unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes that paired beautifully with his lengthy lashes, against you.

And it always worked. Well, not always. You had some degree of self-control. But more times than not, you couldn't help but to cave in to his protests. How could you resist? It was Steve.

With a satisfied grin that carved deep smile lines into his blushing cheeks, he'd tuck his sheets snug around your body, repeatedly asking you if you were comfortable enough. His bed was cloud-like, plush and doughy and his pillows smelled like his shampoo and conditioner, a hint of cologne on his comforter. It was like you were trapped in a cocoon of Steve. You wanted to tell him you were beyond comfortable, that there, in his bed, you were in just about your favorite place on Earth but, habitually, you concluded that a simple nod would suffice.

Crawling onto the empty space beside you, he made sure to face you, leaving a soft squeeze on your shoulder before humming "G'night, sunshine," closing his eyes and tucking his hands under his head. And like always, Steve was a perfect gentleman, dead set on never getting under the covers himself when you'd sleep over.

Guilt would disrupt your relaxation at the sight of the brisk night chill building little hills on his freckled arms, though you selfishly loved the way he'd cuddle up to steal some of your body heat. His plump lips would part as he drifted into a peaceful slumber, light snores and chirping crickets being your lullaby.

You hoped to have another night like that soon.

In the midst of times like those, storms of wonder and doubt raged on. Was Steve like this with everyone else? Were you being silly thinking that you and Steve could be more than friends? Being Steve's best friend for nearly a decade, you knew he wasn't exactly a prude. His King Steve era was honestly one of your least favorites. Though he reserved his usual tenderness and affection all for you, you've witnessed a whole slew of girls enter and leave Steve's life, and none of them looked like you.

You wanted nothing more than to be one of the girls he'd have leaned up against his locker, arm resting next to their head, cheeks fanned by his minty breath as he whispered honeyed words. You craved dates at the drive-in theater in Steve's burgundy 1983 BMW only to neglect the movie and end up making out, like he did with other girls.

When Steve would bring his latest lover around, desperately, you did your damnedest to bury your jealousy and and fill its grave with merriment for him, because if anyone deserved to be happy, it was Steve. But the girls at school only wanted to be with Steve because of his status and all the flashy things he could buy them.

The flashy things were dull to you, though.

You wanted to be with Steve because you wanted to hold his hand and press soft kisses to his cheek. To hug him a little tighter and little longer than a best friend normally would. To run your fingers through his fluffy hair whenever he would grow stressed because you knew it calmed him down. To make him breakfast in bed when he was sick and even when he wasn't. To love him your fullest potential.

But you had to settle for this. Calves tucked under your thighs with a blanket draped over your legs as you stared off into space, longing for someone you thought you couldn't have, not knowing he was stealing glances of you wondering what was running through your pretty little head.

Resting your arm against the back of the sofa, holding your head up, your lips were downturned in a pout, eyebrows pulled together as you studied the throw pillow a few inches away from you. A little pillow can't be that interesting, something has to be bothering you, he thought. He was unapologetically curious to know if pressing his lips against your own would make that frown melt into that sweet smirk you usually had.

Steve hated when you were unhappy. It made his mind race. Did someone say something to you? Did someone do something to you? Did you eat today? How was your shift? Why did you lie when you said your day "wasn't too shabby"? Obviously it was shabby. Look at your face. That tired and troubled, cute little face. What can he do to fix it? You were his sunshine, you deserved to be happy, always.

Giving the pot a final stir and turning the flame off, Steve carelessly tossed the grease-stained hand towel flopped over his shoulder, down by the sink, strolling over to where he'd earlier set down the two bottles of wine. White Zinfandel. Neither you or Steve were wine connoisseurs, but when you called Nancy panicking about how extensive the selection at the liquor store was, she swore by it.

Balancing two glasses and a single bottle of the rose-tinted alcohol, Steve took an extra glance at your face, deciding to scoop up the second bottle into his arms. By the looks of it, it was gonna be one of those nights.

You tried to hide your smile as you noticed he was coming over, a slight grin on his face as he set the glasses down. You and him both knew he was only coming to cause trouble. He set the delicate haul down on to the thrifted wooden coffee table in front of you, slipping you one of those comforting 'Steve smiles' he usually did.

Like the forgotten towel, he threw himself down on the couch next to you, warm hand having a much softer landing on the plush of your thigh; a familiar and welcomed touch. Habitually, you curled up closer to him, no longer able to hide your smile.

"Why so glum, chum?" He tilted his chin down, slightly poking his bottom lip out, as he looked at you through batting eyelashes.

Laughing through your nose and subsequently parading a grin that displayed nothing but teeth and hollow happiness, you remarked, "What do you mean? Don't you see me smiling?"

You were fooling absolutely no one. Steve knew you were sad. And, goddamn it, he was gonna get it out of you.

"You know exactly what I mean, you weren't smiling just a few seconds ago until I came over. You're welcome, by the way, I'm flattered that I have such an effect on you," he smirked, placing a hand on his chest in gratitude.

"Okay, now I'm glum again," you roll your eyes at his not-so discreet cockiness. You hid your face in your hands, resting your forehead on Steve's shoulder. It was hard with muscle, but soft with tenderness and safety. "I was smiling at the wine, for your information."

The palm of your hand that pressed against your face muffled your words, but Steve could still understand what you said, it was evident in the way your tone was laced with satire.

"Ah, yes, that makes way more sense" Steve replied, monotone. His thumb began coasting along your skin as he urged you, "Alright, jokes aside. How are you really feeling?"

Hoisting your head up, you almost answered before he continued, "And don't give me that 'not too shabby' crap 'cause that frown you had going on earlier already snitched on ya."

When the hell did he get so observant? Steve was no idiot, but sometimes things needed to be spelled out for him. But come to think of it, you never had to spell things out for Steve whenever it came to you. He just always had a way of knowing.

"I don't know, Steve. Honestly. Some days are just a bit tougher than others. Today was one of those days," you murmured, avoiding the attentive gaze he was burning into your shifty eyes.

He slowly nodded as he processed your words, head falling on top of yours as you again found comfort on his shoulder. His eyes fluttered shut as you began mimicking the affection he was giving you on your thigh, rubbing his arm through the creamy cotton material of his crewneck. You hadn't seen it before. This one was new. So were the jeans he'd paired with it.

"Why're you dressed so nice, Harrington?"

He laughed more to himself than to you. "Well, the food can't be the only thing that looks good, you know? Wanted to look nice too. It's our first dinner together, after all," he mumbled the last bit.

Steve felt the skin around your eyes tighten against his shoulder as your eyebrows scrunched together. "We've had dinner together before, though."

"This one's different," he replied, almost instantly. You'd hoped Steve's eyes were still closed so that he wouldn't see the bashfulness you were weathering, plucking the corners of your lips into a soft smile.

A silence fell between the two of you. Not unusual. Not awkward. Never unusual or awkward. There was a mutual cherishment of moments like these. Shamelessly invading each other's personal space on the couch as if it was made to only fit one person, music playing lowly the distance, but preferring to listen to the sound of the other's breathing.

"How can I make you feel better, sunshine?" Steve questioned, voice still hushed. The volume of your voice wasn't much louder as you responded, thoughtlessly, "You don't have to ask me that. You make me feel better without even trying."

"Oh yeah?" He craned his neck so that his head was impossibly closer to yours, awaiting your confirmation. Steve knew that you enjoyed his company, as he did yours, but he was only joking earlier when he gushed about having such an effect on you. It was now his turn to hide his blush, when you hum, nodding your head fervently.

These were the warm moments that confused you so much more than any subject in school ever did. And unbeknownst to you, it messed with Steve's head too. He'd never been this close with anyone before. Especially not with any of his "girlfriends" in the past. Sure, they'd cuddle and talk about their feelings. But it never felt the way it does with you. Steve was in love with you. It was hopeless.

And he had to make it known. Soon. If not, he swore he'd explode.

"Ready to eat?"

"Mhm," you buzzed, untangling yourself from the envelop of Steve. As he pressed his knuckles into the sofa, willing himself up, you reached for the bottle of wine and a glass, but your hand only made it so far until it felt the sting of a petty swipe from the boy next to you. "Ah ah, missy, dinner first. Lord knows how many hours its been since you last ate."

You snorted, "Relax, it hasn't been that long."

"Oh yeah? When was the last time?" He looked at you with raised eyebrows and an expression that said he already knew your answer was going to be ridiculous. And if there was anything you learned tonight, it was that Steve was highly skilled at knowing when you were lying, so instead, you left him with a goofy smile and giggle that told him he was absolutely right in his assumption.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," the spot where he sat went cold as he left to the kitchen, fixing two plates for the both of you. You moved the drinks and glasses over to the dining table, using a nearby lighter to ignite the accompanying lavender and vanilla scented candles. Tina Turner's vinyl was replaced with Tears for Fears' album Songs from The Big Chair instead, as Steve used his elbow to dim the kitchen lights, hands full with heavy plates of pasta.

"Oh my gosh, this looks so good! Good job, Stevie," you cheered, as he set your plate down in front of you, pouring you a much needed glass of wine. Your hands shook with hunger or excitement, or both, as you picked up your fork, ready to dig in. "Yeah, don't get too psyched yet. Let's hope it tastes as good as it looks."

"I'm sure it does."

His knee rests against yours as he sits adjacent to you, gathering food on his fork, though his eyes are peering at you, awaiting your verdict. The mouthwatering smell of garlic, butter, cheese and other heaven-sent elements overwhelm your nose and you feel like you can't eat it soon enough. You pause for a beat and so does his heart, hand over your messy mouth as you chew. Steve's hand twitches as he contemplates wiping the sauce from the corners of your lips and licking his finger clean.

"Steve," you begin, eyes flickering shut. "I'm gonna need you to cook for me every night. This is so fucking good." The tension in his face eases at your palpable delight, mission well accomplished. He was proud of himself. Very proud. Almost as much as you were of him.

You throw your head back, the purest form of satisfaction consuming you. "I'm glad you like it, I've been trying to nail it for weeks," Steve laughs, finally taking a bite for himself.

"Well, you've succeeded," you beam, washing it down with a sip of wine. Everybody Wants to Rule the World begins playing and you smile at Steve, knowing it was his favorite song at the moment. You nod your head along as Steve hums. A truly peaceful pocket in time.

Through the large windows opening the living room to the rest of Hawkins, you had the perfect view of the bright lights and mountainous buildings from the neighboring city. It was like the sky had flipped on its axis and the stars weren't in the sky anymore, they were among the trees and high rise properties.

"Steve, look how pretty," you point towards the window as his gaze shifts from you to raindrop-riddled glass. "I love being able to see the city so close. Sucks that we can't see the stars, though. I've always wanted to go stargazing."

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that a while ago. We gotta go one of these days," he replied, shoving a forkful of alfredo into his mouth.

"Oh, did you wanna go too?"

He shrugs his shoulders, chewing before speaking, "Eh, I'm not really a big stars guy. Besides, if I wanna see a pretty little light, all I gotta do is look at you," he says inattentively, going right back to eating as if he hadn't just said the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you.

"Shut up, Harrington," you roll your eyes, letting out a half-hearted laugh as you take your last bite. How could he flirt with you so easily? So carelessly? Couldn't he see that you loved him and that whenever he says things like that it does something to you? Clueless boy.

"I'm serious. Why do you think I always call you sunshine?" He replies, not a hint of irony in his face.

"Steve," you warn, sitting back in your chair. You didn't know where this conversation was going, and you'd be damned if you got your hopes up for what you always got whenever you did: absolutely nothing.

"It's why I love when you wear yellow. Reminds me of the first time I ever saw you," he pressed. He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Clueless girl.

"Steve," your voice wavered. "What? Why do you keep saying my name like that?" He laughed, dryly.

He grew worried that he was saying too much. Saying things that a person shouldn't say to their best friend. He took a sip of his wine. Then another. Then another. He was considering just downing the whole glass. Maybe he was saying too much.

Screw that, he was in love with you.

"What're you saying to me right now?" You charged, voice a little harsher than what you'd intended, but you demanded an answer. A straightforward one. "I'm saying that I'm done hiding it."

"Hiding what?"

"That I love you."

The revelation yanks your parted lips shut, unsure of what to say next. You had dreamed for what felt like a lifetime for Steve to say those words to you and at last, it was no longer a dream, but instead reality. The rapid pace of your heartbeat could be felt in your chest and ears, and the butterflies in your stomach were more wild and untamed than ever before.

Steve's eyes didn't leave yours, though the stillness from you was killing him. The silence between you two that was once never awkward or unusual, was now painful and nearly unbearable.

Your dilated pupils scanned over his face, relentlessly. The jokey, teasing grin that he often sported when he was messing with you was unaccounted for. Holy shit. The gate to your thoughts opened once more. "You're serious," you whispered.

"How could I not be?" Steve watched you with adoring eyes, the warm light of the candle giving the melted chocolatey pond the sweetest infusion of honey.

"Kiss me."

Forks and butter knives fall to the ground with several, loud unpleasant clanks as Steve leans over the square dining table, hungrily pressing his lips against yours. His lips are garlicky and a little chapped, as yours probably are as well, yet the kiss is nothing short of perfect.

His mouth does a passionate dance against yours as you follow his lead, embracing the plush little pillows with your own. It was both everything you've imagined it'd be and nothing like you'd thought at the same time. You already knew Steve was an amazing kisser. Anyone who went to Hawkins High knew it. But experiencing it for yourself was completely different and new. It was euphoric.

The two of you have to reluctantly pull yourselves off of each other to catch your breaths. This moment was a long time coming.

Steve's hands are still holding onto to either side of your face, unwilling to let you go just yet. Truly savoring every second of the present. His breath fans across your cupid's bow, as he smiles against your lips. "You drive me crazy, you know that?"

Giggling, you wrap your palms and fingers around his wrists, rubbing your nose on his. "Sorry," you shrug, feeling his thumbs caress your warm cheeks.

"Don't be," he shakes his head, engulfing your soft lips into another kiss.

message from jojo: pls comment and reblog if you enjoyed! it means a lot <3

#stranger things #steve harrington #steve and sunshine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington x you #steve harrington headcanon #soft!steve harrington #stranger things 4 #joe keery #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x poc!reader

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lynaferns · 1 year

Text

Jul 3 2022

FINALLY get to this one, aaaaaaa

I am still really really REALLY proud of this one. THIS is my favorite if not one of the best artworks I have made to date.

+30 hours of work put into this bad boy

It is here were I decided to try and spend a whole month (not every day, I took rest days) into one drawing to see how far I could get, testing my own artstyle and practicing backgrounds for once (having as a reference a video of a guy who whouldn't stay still because I don't have the game to take screenshots myself so I kind of had to imaginate how some objects whould look at specifics angels and I missed a few details in the room).

Now, taking a look over it I can see some anatomy/perspective mistake here and there but I don't really care, I still really like this drawing.

#my art #old art #artwork #ilustration #digital art #2d art #<- putting this here because last year when I posted this in other social media people mistook it for 3D for some reason lol #fnaf #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #fnaf sun #fnaf daycare attendant #fanart #I have to admit #back then I decided this was finished before I lost any more of my sanity

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oatmilk-vampire · 1 month

Text

Steve Harrington needed hearing aids.

He wasn't born needing them. In fact, he was just about as healthy as a young man in his social class could be. But numerous head injuries eventually led to gradually worsening hearing loss, leading him to needing mostly useless hearing aids.

His damage was so severe he actually needed cochlear implants but his parents kicked him out of their house and off of their insurance plan when he got caught kissing his teammate back in high school. With his minimum wage job and splitting rent with his roommate Robin, he currently did not make enough money for such a luxury.

So he did the next best thing: he learned ASL.

It was free, other than his time invested, and Robin was the one to suggest it. After all, she was already fluent in five languages and had been in band for twelve years. If anyone could teach herself and a hard of hearing person to sign, it was Robin Buckley.

The only bad part was, they were the only two who seemed to know the damn language, leaving Steve to strain to hear or read lips lest he get (mostly) silently yelled at by some deranged customer.

So when he spotted a guy around his age with long, dark curly hair and perfectly round black glasses with side shields, he knew he had to act.

He knew what it was like to have people gloss over the fact that you exist, or even berate you for it; so he took a page out of Robin's book.

He learned braille.

Sure, technically Steve could still speak to the boy, but wouldn't it be more special if he could read what Steve wanted to say?

So he practiced and practiced until he was happy, bringing the card to work where his crush appeared to be a regular.

As Steve sees him walk in, he knows today's the day.

⠓⠊ ⠊ ⠁⠍ ⠎⠞⠑⠧⠑ ⠎⠕⠗⠗⠽ ⠊⠋ ⠞⠓⠊⠎ ⠊⠎ ⠺⠑⠊⠗⠙ ⠃⠥⠞ ⠊ ⠚⠥⠎⠞ ⠺⠁⠝⠞⠑⠙ ⠞⠕ ⠎⠁⠽ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠁⠗⠑ ⠗⠑⠁⠇⠇⠽ ⠉⠥⠞⠑ ⠁⠝⠙ ⠊ ⠺⠕⠥⠇⠙ ⠇⠊⠅⠑ ⠞⠕ ⠁⠎⠅ ⠽⠕⠥ ⠕⠥⠞ ⠕⠝ ⠁ ⠙⠁⠞⠑

Hi I am Steve sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you are really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

Steve is giddy when he wanders over to the boy in dark clothes. He had on black jeans that are ripped at the knees, a Metallica band tee, a leather jacket, and a denim battle vest. He's perfect. He's hot.

Steve's footsteps must be louder than he expects because the object of his affection immediately turns in his direction.

"Hi," Steve greets as he presses the thick stock paper into his hands.

The boy angles his head down with a frown as he traces an index finger over the raised dots, before looking right at Steve behind those dark frames.

He takes them off, and Steve learns after so long that his eyes are brown.

"I'm sorry," his crush says, Steve recognizing those syllables easy enough, "But I can't read this. What is it you're trying to say?"

But now that response is too much, Steve can't keep up. All he knows is the card he worked so carefully punching little holes in with a special tool he had to buy was now being pushed back into his hands.

Steve doesn't try to answer, he just wants to get the hell away before his tears spill over, but a hand on his shoulder stops him in his tracks.

He tenses, squeezes his eyes shut and braces for impact, but when a familiar hit doesn't land on his face, he cautiously opens his teary eyes to find him staring right at Steve.

"Are you okay?" He asks, but Steve can't be quite sure if he's checking on him or asking if he's gay.

Steve's own frown appears on his face as he points to his ears.

"Can't hear too good."

His mouth drops open, rushing to spiel something Steve doesn't catch. He must realize this because he's taking Steve's card back from him now as he mimics writing something with raised eyebrows.

Steve nods his head, more confused that the guy he thought was blind seemed to be understanding him perfectly.

He fishes out the little pad of paper and pen he keeps with him for moments not quite like this, passing the two items over.

He scribbles for a moment before letting Steve read what he's written in big loopy letters.

Hi, I'm Eddie. Sorry, I can't read braille. What did you say?

Steve furrows his brows.

I thought you might know it. Aren't you blind?

Eddie shakes his head with a little smile.

The glasses? I have killer migraines. Never go anywhere without them.

Steve smacks himself in the face. He's been such a fool!

Eddie taps him to gain his attention once more before handing him the notepad and pen.

What did you say? I'd like to know :)

Steve worries his bottom lip.

Hi I'm Steve. Sorry if this is weird but I just wanted to say you're really cute and I would like to ask you out on a date

He's nervous as he hands it back, but Eddie's wide grin and eager nod does wonders to knock back those worries.

I thought you'd never ask, Steve.

#Some steddie au to soothe soul #canon typical violence for Steve tho #eddie's migraine wear inspired by my migraine wear #we wear sunglasses inside bitch #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie ficlet #hard of hearing steve harrington #steddie au

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

Text

“Come here, you dweeb. Let me fix it.”

Will pouts, dragging his feet over and slumping half on top of him. Nico allows it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, pinching Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t react except for a wounded noise, muffled in Nico’s lap, so the situation is evidently quite dire.

“It’s just hair, Will.”

“But I worked on it!” He shifts around until he’s got his head in Nico’s lap, face turned towards him, body curled up on the grass around him. Nico brushes his tangled bangs off his forehead, meeting his big sad eyes. “I spent forty minutes with a stupid brush! And yet!”

“And yet,” Nico agrees, unable to appropriately school is face into one of somber understanding. Will scowls at him for his lack of proper sympathy, a little bit of genuine hurt in his eyes, so Nico leans down and kisses right between his brows in apology. He seems mollified, if only slightly, or at least he leans into Nico’s touch and stops mumbling quite so much.

“‘S’not fair.”

“Mhm.“

“Your hair listens to your instructions.”

“Yep.”

“Even Cecil’s hair listens to him, and no one listens to Cecil.”

Nico purses his lips thoughtfully. “I think Austin listens to Cecil.”

“Yes, I know. It’s an ongoing issue. I’m trying to train him out of it.”

“And how’s that going?” Nico murmurs, curling a strand of golden blond hair around his finger.

“Oh, well, I’m doing my best, so of course it’s going horribly.”

Nico snorts. He resists the urge to hold his palms to Will’s cheeks and kiss every single freckle at light speed, because he will screech something about how Nico is one-upping him in the romance department or something stupid like that. Instead he settles for looking at his dumb dramatic boyfriend’s face and marvelling over the fact that the cutest boy in the entire world, and Nico is being totally objective, hunts around camp until he finds whatever tree Nico is hiding under and curls up into a ball around him and trusts Nico to hold him while he complains about stupid things that genuinely hurt his feelings a little. It’s nice. So many people at camp are still so rigid around him, like he’s collecting information for their judgement day or something. Will prefers to exercise his lesser-known Apollonian talent of being a bigger drama queen than the god himself.

“Stay still,” Nico says softly, moving Will around so he’s laying perpendicular to Nico, now, head centered in his lap and staring up at the sky. Will sighs and squirms a little and turns his head to press a kiss to Nico’s knee, scrunching up his face and releasing it, and then settles in the position.

Humming something soft that exists on the fringes of his foggy memories, he sinks his hands into Will’s hair.

“It’s not that bad,” he promises, moving slowly and pausing whenever he comes across a knot.

Will harrumphs.

“I mean it, Marilyn Monroe. You can tone down the histrionics.”

“I used gel.”

Nico flicks a dried clump of it onto Will’s forehead, amused. “I can see that.”

“I followed every single one of Mitchell’s instructions!”

“I bet.”

“And yet!”

“And, yet.”

Nico has a sneaking suspicion that someone made a comment about Will’s hair, in the last few weeks. He can never confirm it and Will has been shifty about it every time he asks, but Nico has noticed the uptick in hoods and hats the past month and his little flinches every time Nico reaches up and tugs on it. Despite being oddly confident about the oddest things — why he is so proud of being able to fit his fist in his mouth, Nico will never know — Will is very sensitive to how people think of him. He needs to know he’s liked, and when people don’t like him, he gets…desperate, pleasing. The opposite of Nico, who becomes worse in an attempt to push them away on his own terms.

Nico leans down and presses a long, lingering kiss to his forehead.

“I like your hair, you know.”

“It’s a stupid mess.”

He smooths down a handful of it, pressing it over Will’s eye. He manages to keep a straight face for one, two, three seconds before he huffs a laugh, batting Nico’s hands away. Nico grins.

“I like the stupid mess.”

“Yeah, well, you like a lot of weird things.”

“Like you?” Nico suggests, pressing another kiss to the tip of his rounded nose.

“Shut up.”

Another strange thing about him, that Nico has to duck his head to hide his automatic smile: he gets embarrassed easily.

Nico never expected it of him, with all the dorky, medical-themed pickup lines and general shamelessness in his affection towards everybody on Earth, but especially Nico. When the poking, prodding attraction is turned on him, however, he shuts down like an overloaded Playstation. Nico can sometimes see the error messages playing behind its eyes. It’s hilarious.

“Will.” He pokes him in the cheek. “Hey.”

“What,” Will grumbles.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Watching the slow spread of red from below the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair is a delight. Nico watches in glee, wrestling Will’s hands away when he tries to slap them over his face.

“Shut up! Leave me alone! Go — flirt with somebody else!”

“You’d curse them to speak in rhymes for ten years,” Nico teases.

Will makes an agonised noise. “Who! Asked you! Shut up!”

“You’d sic Kayla on anyone who so much as winks at me, you jealous bitch.”

“I would not!”

“You would so. You rolled your eyes at everything Percy said for three weeks when you found out I used to crush on him —”

“I did not!”

“— and you didn’t even have the balls to ask me out, back then.”

“You are a — peddler of falsehoods! A prevaricator, a perjurer, and a fabulist!”

“And you sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Nico snickers. He catches the hand Will flails at him, pressing a kiss to the wrist, which only serves to fluster him more. He decides to take mercy when the kisses he trails down his arms result in one loud, long, tortured screech, pulling back and giving him some space.

Notably, he doesn’t move from Nico’s lap.

“I like it,” Nico admits, once Will has calmed down some. “I like that you’ve liked me for so long.”

Will peeks through the fingers he has covering his eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.” Nico squeezes his shoulders. “And endearing, which seems to be your sweet spot.” He presses a much softer kiss to the underside of Will’s ear, lingering there until he sighs, slumping under all the tension finally leaving his body. “I love you, Will. I love your clumsiness and your rambles and your nose and your freckles and your awkwardness and your jealousy and your hair and I love you, Will, all of you. Even the embarrassing weird parts.” He kisses him again. “Especially the weird parts.”

Will breathes slowly, carefully, evenly, face pressed to the inside of Nico’s thigh. His long eyelashes tickle his skin. Nico can feel the press of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, pulsing against his calf.

“I never thought you were a freak.”

Nico brushes his knuckles over his cheek. “I know.”

“I used to — talk about you. All the time. And your oxytocin levels.”

He smiles.

“I know.”

“Lee had a — chart.” Some of the flush rises back up in his cheeks. “A ‘Days Since We’ve Heard About Di Angelo’ chart.”

Nico bites his lip. Hard.

“The number never got higher than six.”

“…I am trying really, really hard, Will.”

Will sighs.

“You can laugh.”

Nico cracks up, trying desperately to muffle his giggles in his bitten fist. It doesn’t work very well, but the glare Will sends him is somewhat softened by the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Gods, you are — a mess.”

“Mhm.”

Nico cups the side of his face. Will turns, slightly, enough to press a kiss to the centre of his palm and then stay there, eyes closed, breathing against his sword-callused skin.

“I love you too, by the way. Obviously.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you bastard.”

“Go ahead and try to stop me,” Nico challenges, grinning into the passionately indignant kiss Will presses to his lips, finally, letting Nico curl his hands in his hair.

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french-goodbye · 9 months

Text

in the low lamplight

summary: your boyfriend is perfect, except for one tiny little detail.

warnings: conversations about sex; dry humping; consensual slapping and chocking; praise kink; fingering; p in v sex. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+.

notes: i'm tired of experienced steve and virgin reader all the time. i want steve and confident slutty reader who's more experienced than him and blows his mind. also a little praise kink bc i feel like my boy would be insanely into that. also my first time writing smut!!! i! am! nervous! title from work song by hozier.

it's not that steve is bad in bed, it's quite the opposite actually. but he's just... extremely vanilla. and you totally get it. most of his sexual experiences were with young suburban girls in the back of his car or in his room when his parents weren't home. he was a couple of girls' first time and knowing steve, he probably put their own comfort above his wants. not probably, definitely.

you just wish he was... kinkier. nothing too intense, just something a little more exciting. and it's not that you don't get to cum, you totally do. he knows exactly how to move inside of you, the spots that make your body burn in need and he gives the best head ever, which is a nice bonus.

but after three months together and having sex everytime you have the opportunity to, because you're still in the honeymoon stage of the relationship, it's getting kinda repetitive. it's always missionary, maybe you on top if you're in a particularly bossy mood. but he nevers puts you on all fours or asks you to sit on his face or even sixty-nine. nothing.

you know steve's attracted to you (he isn't exactly shy to tell you how much) so you know that's not the issue, so you've tried so hard to subtly ask him to be rougher, you've tried placing his hand on your neck and squeezing, you've tried guiding his hands to your ass, but you've had no success so far. every single time he'll respectfully pull his hand away and press them to your shoulder or keep them there but not do anything.

but tonight. tonight is the night, you've decided. his parents are out of town (as usual) and it's just you two in the house, you've made sure he's free the whole day the tomorrow (no driving little shits around or shifts at the video store) so you'll have the whole friday night and the next day to yourselves.

you even splurged a bit and purchased a set of overpriced lingerie, way too expensive for just two little scraps of fabric and shaved, exfoliated and moisturized your entire body the night before. you still haven't approached the subject with him, but you've already planned a careful yet objective way to approach the subject and even practiced what you'd say in the mirror and bought a cosmo magazine. you're not exactly proud of yourself for that last one.

your plan is finally set in motion after you and steve get home from work and throw yourselves on his couch, half watching a movie and eat leftovers from the dinner you cooked the night before. when you're both done, you tell him you need a shower, where you use that lavender soap he likes and spray on the perfume he gave you on your birthday. after you're done, he's waiting in his room for you, halfheartedly flipping through the book you're currently reading.

"you can take your shower now" you tell him distractedly, holding the towel you've wrapped around yourself tightly to your body. he finally looks up and realizes your state of undress, his eyebrows shooting up.

"what are you doing?"

you stop going through your over night bag to throw him a confused look, "what are you talking about?"

"you used that soap i like, and that perfume i gave you that you only use on special occasions..." he stands up from the bed and stalks to you, watching you from narrowed eyes, like he's suspicious you're planning his murder. "what are you planning?"

you fake surprise, your hand coming up to clutch imaginary pearls. "me? why would i scheme something against my dear loving boyfriend?"

he looks at you unimpressed and you stand on your tip toes to rest your hands on his chest, his hands coming to support you on your waist and you whisper next to his ear, "okay, maybe i do have something planned... why don't you go take your shower and find out?"

he glances at you one last time before squeezing your waist and letting you go.

"fine..." he sighs dramatically, "i'll go"

once he's locked the door behind him, you put on your recently purchased underwear and bra on. you throw on one of his old highschool t-shirts since he once mentioned how much he likes seeing you wearing them.

by the time he gets out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam surrounding him, you're sitting on his bed, rubbing lotion on your legs and he's shirtless, wearing only gray sweatpants, that hang low on his hips, his hair half dry as he finishes towel drying it.

you tsk and shake your head disheartened. "oh- wow, okay, harrington"

he glances at you once and goes back to drying his hair. "huh?"

"the chest, the scandalous dick print..." you explain and gesticulate towards him. "are you trying to seduce me or something?"

"why are you looking at my dick? you interested?" your stomach burns with insinuation but you ignore him, simply tucking your lotion back into your bag.

"i mean... it's hard not to notice when you're whoring yourself around" you shrug with fake nonchalance.

he scoffs loudly at you, going back into the bathroom quickly to hang both of your towels and getting on your way when you're about to climb on the bed after having dropped your bag in the corner.

"i'm whoring myself?" he looms over you, hand resting on your shoulder to snap the strap of your bra that's peeking from his shirt "you're the one wearing a new bra babe."

you don't answer, simply slapping his hand away and climbing on the bed, intentionally giving him a peek of your ass as you finally sit near the foot of the bed, with your legs crossed.

"why don't you turn off the lights and come take a look?"

he earnestly complies, almost tripping on a sweater he left on the bedroom floor earlier that day as he does what you asked. he lights the lampshade on his bedside table and walk towards you, leaning down to reach you when you stop him.

"no" you say firmly. "go sit on the bed, near the headboard."

he complies, but not without giving you a look. "ooh, bossy"

you turn to watch him and can't help the spark that lights up in your tummy. he looks ridiculous attractive, hair fluffy from not being styled properly, his hairy chest all on display for you and his thick spread legs giving a privileged view of his dick in those sweatpants. it's almost criminal, but you swallow it down and keep going with your plan.

you crawl to him on all fours, purposefully, until you're between his legs.

"i don't know about bossing " you run a long manicured fingernail through his thick chest hair. "but i was thinking about something i'd like to try with you..." you only stop when your fingers are almost at his waistband and you swirl your fingers around his bellybutton. you glance at his face and he almost looks dazed, eyes following your finger avidly.

hook, line and sinker.

your boyfriend was almost too easy sometimes.

"yeah, babe... whatever you want" you hold back your laughter and finally climb on top of his legs, his eyes following the curve of your hips and your bare legs as you straddle him.

"how do you feel about chocking?" you ask, making his gaze shift to your face.

"chocking? are you serious?"

"yeah, i think it'd be really good to have your hands around my neck" his fingers dig tightly on your hips, but you can tell he's still unsure.

"what if i hurt you?"

"if it makes you feel better, we can have a safe word and we can immediately stop if one of us says it. no questions asked"

"what if you can't speak?"

"then i can just tap you three times, like this?" you demonstrate, tapping his shoulder. "is that okay?"

he nods quietly, so you ask: "what if i do it on you first so you know what it feels like?"

"yeah, sure"

you gently put your hands on his throat, not applying pressure yet, just resting there.

"you just have to make sure you squeeze the sides, not on top so you don't stop airflow" you explain, spreading your fingers so they're on each side of his throat and squeezing carefully. steve himself is more surprised than you when his breath stutters and he lets an almost groan out.

"did you like that?"

"fuck yeah, that's super hot" he tells you breathlessly, surprising you with a forceful kiss. he manages to distract you, his tongue slipping into your mouth and brushing against yours as his fingers squeeze your hips and start guiding you to grind on his lap. you let him call the shots for a moment, slowly moving your hips against his now half hard cock and sinking your fingers on his hair to scratch his scalp lovingly.

however, when his hands start to wander underneath your borrowed shirt you bite his lip softly, letting it slot back in place as you pull away.

he's about to complain, big brown eyes staring at you and almost pouting. you press your pointer finger to his lips, silencing him, hips still moving at a torturously slow pace against him.

"there's one more thing, actually" you move your finger away and trace his bottom lip carefully.

"more?" his eyebrows raise in question.

"what about you... i don't know, maybe you can be a rough with me? like slapping me a little bit"

"slapping?! babe, i don't wanna hurt you and i don't-"

"you slap my ass all the time!" you accuse him, reminding him of all the times you'd walk past him or bend down and he had slapped your butt teasingly.

"yeah, jokingly"

"babe, i trust you" you grip his face, forcing him to look at you. "i know you'd never hurt me if i didn't ask you to. i just think it'd be really hot, and who knows... maybe you'll like it too. and if you really don't like it we'll never speak of this again" you shrug, gently pushing his hair from his face.

"you sure?" you nod and press a quick kiss to his lips.

"if you wanna stop just say red, okay? anytime."

"yeah, i like that"

"you'll tell me if you wanna stop, right?" you press another quick kiss to his lips in thanks.

he nods eagerly "you too, okay? just say the word and we'll stop" you nod in agreement. "okay... but now what? do i just... jump right into it?"

"no... what about we start the way we always do before having sex?" you smirk, starting to move your hips in slow circular motions again and his hands slide down your back to slip under your t-shirt again.

he laughs huskily next to ear, making you shiver. "we're really good at that", his lips make contact with the skin of your neck, pressing open mouthed kisses there. you keep moving on top of him, hands sinking into his hair and keeping him there.

"fuck, steve" you whine when he sucks at a sensitive spot on your neck, his hands squeezing your thighs roughly, moulding fat like dough underneath his fingertips.

suddenly you feel a sharp sting on your backside as steve slaps your ass. you whine deep in your throat and your hips stutter in their rhythm against his lap.

"oh, you really like it when i do that"

"god, i do" you breathlessly tell him with a smile, tugging his hair harshly to guide him to your mouth. "you like this too, don't you? just wanna give me what i need, huh baby?"

"i do, i do. just want my girl to feel good" he whines against your mouth, while he spreads your ass and digs his fingers into your skin.

you kiss him some more, until you can feel his now hard cock against you, through the lace fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants. his hand lift up your t-shirt and carefully takes it off of you.

"god, you're gorgeous" you push on his chest gently until his back is against the headboard so you can show him the whole thing, from the intricate lace to the small straps keeping everything together. "you got this for me?" he teases you, his hands playing with your underwear, pulling it and letting it snap against the skin of your hip.

"yeah..." you answer distractedly, his cock rubbing in a very nice spot near your covered clit. his hand moves up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing your pebbled nipple through your bra. "you like it?"

"fuck yeah, i love it" one of his hand cups your breast, while the other pushes the fabric of your bra down so he can pull and twist your nipple.

you're already a mess on top of him, feeling the wetness on your underwear sticking to your folds, when he lowers his head to suck your nipple into his mouth and his hand plays with your other breast. the nails of your left hand dig half crescent moons on his bare shoulders while the other tug on his hair to keep him there and your head drops back in pleasure.

his hand stops massaging your breasts and you're about to complain when you feel it start to slip down your stomach and hook under your underwear to rub his fingers through your wetness, his knuckles grazing your clit. you hold him tighter, a loud moan leaving your lips when he sinks two fingers inside of you.

"yes, yes, yes, baby" you whine, hiding your face in his hair as he realeases your nipple with a lewd pop.

"you're so fucking wet" he rasps against you and sucks a mark on the swell of your breast, pumping his fingers in and out of you as the palm of his hand rubbing on your clit everytime he moves. "god, you feel so good around my fingers. can't wait to have my dick inside you."

you're lost in the rhythm of it, his palm brushing your clit at every stroke, the feeling of his lips sucking on your chest and his hips bucking underneath yours occasionally. but you finally reach your peak when his free hand slips down your back and slaps your ass again, harder this time, palming it underneath his fingertips.

"that's it... come for me, baby" you pull him to your mouth again as you come down and he guides you through it, still feeling yourself clenching on his fingers as you twitch in his lap.

"god, you're so fucking hot" you whisper against his mouth, still breathless. "you're so good to me, baby. such a good boy"

suddenly, he's holding you tighter and manhandling you, roughly dropping you on your back and looming over you between your knees. before you can react, he's ripping off his sweatpants and throwing it on his bedroom floor.

he stands completely naked in front of you, helping you spread your legs. you eye him lustfully, from his mussed hair to his throbbing cock standing tall, the tip pink and dripping with a little pre cum.

"can i go down on you?" you ask him avidly, starting to lift yourself up but he stops you, holding your wrist above your body.

"nuh-uh, baby. i'm gonna blow my load if you do that" he denies and you giggle, about to complain when he licks the palm of his free hand and strokes himself one, two, three times, shutting you up real quick. he's starting to align himself with your entrance when you stop him.

"wait, wait" he stops immediately.

"what? what's wrong?"

"i want you from behind"

he groans, dropping his head on the curve of your neck and letting go of your wrists. "you really can't say shit like that to me if you want me to last"

you giggle and tap his shoulder sympathetically, "you'll live". you lightly scratch his back, sliding your hands from his shoulder to his lower back and wrap your legs around his hips, feeling the tip of his cock nudging your inner thigh. "now... why don't you put me on my knees, handsome?"

he quickly moves to reposition you, helping you lift yourself up and pushing your spine down gently when you get on your knees. you lower your torso all the way until your chest is pressed against his bedsheets, lifting your ass up.

"fuck, baby. you look so good like this" he says when he slots himself behind you.

"maybe you should listen to me more, harrington" you tease, looking at him from over your shoulder as he kneads your ass.

"maybe i should, pretty girl" he answers distractedly, and you feel his thumb spreading your entrance. "look at this pretty pussy"

you moan and try to wriggle in the hold he has on your hips, "steeeve-"

he laugh mockingly and starts rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. "you this desperate babe?"

before you can answer he starts sinking himself inside, both of you sighing at the feeling. when he's finally inside you can't help the moan that escapes you, his big cock filling you up beautifully and the stretch in this position making you feel so full. however, his strokes are slow and languid and while that's nice, it's not exactly what you need.

"come on, babe" you grumble, trying to rock your hips against his grip. "fuck me like you mean it"

he scoffs and speeds up, his hand wrapping around your hair to press your face against his mattress and to keep you still, changing the angle slightly and pressing right against your spot inside of you.

"is this how you want it?" he huffs, slapping you again.

"oh god, yes. right there!"

he pulls you up until you're both kneeling on the bed, his hips slapping against your ass. his free hand climbs up your chest until it's resting on your neck. "do you want-?"

"yes, i want it. please, please, choke me" you interrupt, begging him to keep going, begging him for more. his fingers carefully start squeezing you throat and you wrap your hand around his to guide him until the pressure is just right.

"squeezing my cock so tight, baby. should've told me you wanted this sooner."

you don't get to answer, his free hand suddenly slipping down to rub circles on your clit and you're gone, your orgasm hitting you like a fright train. he helps you ride it out, until you gently pull his hand away and bend down again, resting your weight on your elbows.

"your turn, baby" you tell him, tilting your head slightly so you can see him.

he starts babbling and pressing you harder against the bed, a clear sign that he's close himself. he bends down, his chest against your back until he can stretch his hand out to hold yours against the mattress and he can babble against your ear about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him, how much he loves being inside you.

"that's it, babe. you made me feel so good, it's your turn now" you tell him, still slightly breathless and sensitive around his cock. "please come, need you to come so bad"

"god, i'm gonna cum" and it's all it takes to feel him pull out and finish himself off on your back. you're both still for a second as you catch your breath and he squeezes your hand still intertwined in his gently. when you turn your face to the side to see him, he presses a kiss to your cheek.

he taps your hips gently as he gets up and goes to the bathroom, coming back quickly to wipe you and himself clean with a wet washcloth. when he's done he throws it on top of the rest of his dirty laundry, still thrown on his bedroom floor.

when he finally turns to you, you're finally laying on your back and getting comfortable on his pillow. steve throws himself next to you and his arms immediately wrap around your waist. you hug him back, guiding his head to rest on top of your bare chest, now littered with purpling marks.

"you had fun, pretty girl?"

"you couldn't tell?" you laughter, his head shaking slightly against your chest as you comb his hair away from his face and his breath against your skin.

"god, i'm obsessed with you" he complains, hiding his face on your boob. you laugh, gently coaxing his face away so you can see him.

"that's good," you smooth the messy hairs on his eyebrow. "i'm pretty obsessed with you too"

"we're pretty perfect for each other then"

"you should keep me forever" you tease, tracing his features gently. he presses a kiss to your sternum and gets comfortable against you.

"maybe i will"

it sounds like a pretty good deal.

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington smut #i wrote this instead of working on my thesis 😃#i wasn't sure if i should post this but i got so much love on my last fic it made me braver so 🙃#mine

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jacevelaryonswife · 3 months

Text

Supermassive Black Hole

A duo project changes some perceptions about your classmate

pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

warnings: smut, period tipical misoginy (2006 guys), loss of virginity, english is not my first language.

word count: 3,297

ewanverse masterlist

When a firm knock came from the door, a name automatically entered your mind.

Gavey.

Michael Gavey.

You imagined that he would come to your meeting eventually, you actually longed to, although you didn't admit it. That idiot deserved to be put in his proper place — which was necessarily below you.

It had all started when a duo project was designated by draw earlier that day, and for both luck and bad luck your partner was the awkward genius, and difficult to deal with Michael Gavey.

There was no shortage of adjectives to be used for the unstable dirty blonde, which was truly fascinating. He intrigued you with his sharp intellect and his eccentric personality to the same extent that he repelled you with his peculiar and almost aggressive way. He was quite a figure, although you didn't allow yourself to think much about it.

It was also not a mystery that he was a true Norman No Mates, which wasn’t difficult to understand since his social skills were disastrous. The memory of him screaming at Oliver Quick in O Week never left your mind, especially the sudden change of attitude when he lowered his head and responded to the sum that Felix's pet (as your friends called him) made. You watched the whole situation closely, with a lot of curiosity, since your tables were close.

After that, whenever he entered an environment, you wondered what he would do next. You never knew what to expect from Gavey.

He started fervent debates during classes, demonstrating unparalleled intelligence and self-confidence, in addition to a slight arrogance that made him look strangely hot. Obviously a dispute of nervous male egos originated from these discussions, which made you watch with veiled fun and irritation while remaining silent. You admired the way his brain worked for math, but you didn't understand how he could be so bad at dealing with other people.

Because of this, you chose to keep a considerable distance from the horizon of events that involved Michael and his complexity, and for a long time this worked perfectly well. Until that damn moment.

Feeling humiliated by the way that insolent worm acted when trying to take responsibility for the whole activity for yourself, as if you were incompetent and incapable, you immediately confronted him about such behavior when he went to your meeting at the end of the class while you collected your material.

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"I'll finish this by Saturday, no need to worry," he repeated condescendingly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you think I won't participate? Or did you just choose to pretend that I don't exist?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed, posture becoming more imposing.

He remained silent for a short moment, seeming to analyze the situation (or the best answer to it, you couldn't tell). He wasn't used to being so reluctant to say what he thought, so it was a surprise to see him using time to devise something.

"I don't like working in group, I thought it would be faster if I did everything," he looked down quickly, running away from your gaze.

"I also don't like working with other people and I didn't even think about excluding you," you replied.

“Of course you don't.” There it was. The veiled arrogance that you so hated, present in most of your classmates.

Few were your STEM classmates, since your class was mostly composed of resentful boys who did not know how to deal with a woman without seeing her as a less intelligent object. Luckily not everyone was like that and you managed to put together a really cool group.

When all you did was send a cold and angry look, Michael cleared his throat and tried to speak again, but you cut him off impatiently. "When you're less asshole look for me again, I think you have my Myspace."

Who did that little shit think it was to treat you like that? 'Of course you don't' He was so fucking pretentious! And that's because he almost couldn't keep eye contact for a long time.

Pathetic.

That skinny nerd tormented your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon and served as gossip between your friends. Predictable. The way he acted was not very different from what you imagined about his annoying self-sufficiency. And even so, there he was, stopping in front of your door (more nerdy than ever) with his laptop and notebook in hand, wearing a blue button striped shirt, black belt and cream pants. He had a terrible taste in clothes, although they totally reflected his personality, he was curious.

“I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier, it wasn't cool,” he started as soon as you leaned carelessly against the door.

Interesting.

You considered it for a moment, looking at him before turning his back and clearing the way for him to enter your space. "It wasn't that hard, was it?" You pulled a chair for him and threw yourself dramatically on the bed before sitting down to face him, already well established and looking closely at your figure. "So... I assume you've already thought about the structure of the project."

Of course he had thought.

He opened the laptop and exposed his idea while showing some calculations in his notebook, and you made an effort to pay attention to what was said and what was sketched. Obviously his idea was good, great actually, incredibly structured and cohesive with what the professor wanted. But you also had some ideas and would like them to be taken into account, telling you what you had planned. Surprisingly, he showed to consider your suggestions, even praising them — you knew they were good, but not that his ego allowed you to visualize this. You suggested a division of parts that would be meticulously checked in a future meeting.

"As you have already started, I thought about staying with the second part, what do you think?" You asked.

"It's okay, I intend to finish tomorrow maybe, I'll forward some references by email to you."

“Sure.” It was all very bureaucratic and direct. You sneaked up to look at his laptop screen before looking at what he was typing. "I have some of these books here, but I'll look for the others."

And without realizing it, you got into a big problem.

The freshness that radiated from him flooded your senses gradually, looking too long at his neck and jaw...

He had such beautiful features and aquiline dirty blonde hair that it looked so soft. And those hands... those long fingers... no, no, no and no. You (your body) couldn't be heating up to Michael Gavey.

But it's been a while since some fun... and you were at a suggestive time of the month. Maybe... just maybe... It wasn't a bad idea. As you returned to sitting on the bed, specifically next to where his chair was, you analyzed him as he typed the references in the email. He was not bad looking, no, quite the opposite in fact.

He was handsome, really handsome. And you wanted him. You wanted Michael Gavey.

You wanted to fuck him.

Fuck that attitude.

But how? How would you approach that nervous nerd?

Your mind struggled to develop an effective approach. You didn't want to waste time, not with the heat that spread high between your legs. You just waited for him to send the damn email and close the laptop. "Do you want anything to drink?"

“I'm good. I think we ended up here, I'll try to finish my part quickly," he looked at the notebook that was on the pillow, which you anticipated to pick up and deliver it, standing up in a false farewell.

"Sure," and as soon as Michael got up with the notebook and laptop, you held his arms, gently removing the objects while placing them on your study table. "But I don't think you should go now," you used without a more seductive tone while holding his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" He asked still, tense, looking directly into your eyes.

“Are you dating someone?” You asked softly, getting closer, leaning your breasts against his chest.

"No, I'm not," he answered the obvious, but you wanted to hear the obvious with all the lyrics.

Stretching a short distance from his lips, you asked: "So can I kiss you?"

That same look seen earlier was present again, as if his mind worked hard to find a solution to the problem presented. His mouth opened minimally when he took a deep breath, this time his gaze fell on your lips. "Why do you want to kiss me?"

"Because I fucking want it."

And then you collided your lips with his in a demanding kiss that took a long time to be reciprocated, but when it was... oh boy. Michael held your waist and tried to keep up with your rhythm. He wasn’t so experienced, but his lips were soft and pleasant against yours, kissing you with so much enthusiasm that it made you dizzy.

It made you both dizzy.

He couldn't believe was happening — and that it was happening to you. You... gorgeous, sexy and intelligent. You with a nice and phenomenal ass, who he believed would never look at him twice. You, who kissed him on the tongue and moved his hands to your chest and ass and smoothed the back of his neck and massaged his shoulder. He'd never been kissed like that before. Had never touched a girl like that.

What the fuck was going on?

With the deepening of the kiss you felt a hardness to press against your belly, inhibiting a conscious smile while Michael struggled between apologizing or pretending that it was not happening. Fortunately, you didn't intend to let that be ignored. Your hand slid from the nape of his neck until it reached the increasing bulge, gently squeezing over his pants, making him moan against your lips. You squeezed again before breaking the kiss.

"I don’t wanna just kiss tonight."

Fuck. He couldn't believe what was going on.

He felt that he would cum right there if your hand kept rubbing his cock.

"Are you sure?" He asked uncertainty, still not convinced that you really wanted him that way. It was so fucking sudden, one minute he was collecting his things to leave and the next he was kissing you.

"All the certainty in the world, and you?" You sang against his lips.

"I-" that would be fucking embarrassing, you would laugh at him, "I want to but- I never-"

Oh. It wasn’t different from what you expected.

"It's okay, seriously, there's no reason to worry about it."

“... are you fucking me or something?” He asked weakly, looking at your beautiful face with lust, seriousness and insecurity. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

"Of course not, I want you Michael, I want that, but if you feel you're not comfortable we don't n-"

"I want that."

“Are you sure?”

“I'm fucking sure.”

He felt a chain of confidence run through his body and leaned over to kiss you. You wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt, groping his newly exposed soft torso. Michael almost sighed when receiving your soft touch, pulling the blouse out of your body and coming across exposed and already hardened breasts.

Fuck.

He almost moaned. They were the first tits he saw in person, it was more than exciting. He held them immediately, massaging, squeezing, experiencing...

"Not like that," you held his hands gently.

"Sorry, I never-"

“It's okay.”

Your hands landed on the belt and unbuttoned it, continuing to unbutton the pants that were urgently removed by him while you discarded your own and hovered only in panties, watching him get rid of the shoes as well. Michael had little time to get used to your half-naked figure, since with a mischievous smile, you slowly lowered your panties and left it accumulated on the floor. He felt his neck and face burn and cock pulse with your vision, contemplating for too long.

You touched him over his black underwear, feeling him hard and big, making him moan.

"I won't last long if you keep fucking touching me like that," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"So why haven't you taken that off yet?" You shook his head, teasing him, watching him almost tear off his underwear and show off his cock in all splendor. He was packing, bigger than you expected, all pink, beautiful and anxious. “You have such a nice body,” you kissed him lazily, anticipation thrumming through you.

Michael felt himself in the clouds with your body pressed to his without any layer of fabric, but a big wave of anxiety hit him when you walked away to get a condom before gently guiding him to bed. “Relax, let me take control,” no foreplay would be necessary when you were already wet enough to receive it. "Take a deep breath and calm down, it's quite intense, try to be distracted by something else," you adjusted the condom to its length and saw it almost shake. That boy wouldn't last a minute.

He followed your instructions and concentrated as much as possible not to cum fast, holding firmly on your hips but nothing prepared him for your wet and hot folds.

Fuck, not even the best handjobs compare to your tight pussy going down on his cock. He moaned loudly when you rested against his groin, staring at where your bodies connected.

You bit your lips and closed your eyes, feeling deliciously full. He was bigger than average and had a delicious thickness that you would love to squeeze on your walls just to see him have a spasm, but I knew it would be too much for the beginning.

"When you want me to move, just say it."

Oh no, no! He was sure he would end up there even if you moved. "Don't move yet," he replied quickly, "Fuck," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was terribly satisfying to see him all vulnerable and red, without the usual arrogance and weirdness, and even better to have him inside you (albeit for a short time presumably). He thought about all the things he heard about sex all his life in those long seconds, filtering out what seemed more credible and useful. Think of something less sexy. It was fucking hard.

“Move.”

“Enjoy baby,” you slid gently up, resting your hands on his chest as you started an experimental and slow rhythm. “Mmm.”

So damn good.

Your juices made the movements easy and smooth, leaving him breathless whenever he was balls deep. The friction generated by the constancy of the movements made you two moan and the tightness on your waist increased. He was a fucking vision with disheveled hair, half-open mouth and crooked glasses, all docile while he was fucked dumb. The feeling of power over such an intelligent man was as exciting as sex, causing a presumptuous smile on your lips when you leaned over to kiss his milky neck, rubbing your body against his.

“Are you enjoying it?” You purred against his skin, kissing him superficially on the lips.

He was in the fucking clouds. And you knew that. Little shit.

He wrapped your body to move his hips against yours. He couldn't hold it anymore, he needed to cum. "I won't last long."

“It's okay, baby.”

Your tits jumped when you started riding it hard at a terrifying pace. He closed his eyes and felt his balls weigh every time you sat on his cock, holding your waist, your tits, your ass, everything you could while you allowed it.

"Fuck- I'm-" he moaned loudly and released his load on the condom, feeling a mind-blowing pleasure that paralyzed his senses and one pulled into a supermassive black hole. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, illuminating the reddish tone that covered it.

So beautiful.

Coming out of the top, you lay comfortably next to him, supporting a part of your peso on his chest while watching him struggling to stabilize his breathing. He still couldn't believe that it had finally happened, and especially with a girl like you.

“Are you here?” You asked after a while with a fun smile, although warm between his legs. He didn't know if he was, but he replied with a panting 'yes'. "Well, because we're not done yet."

What?

“What?” He asked.

“Sex is a two-way street baby, and I haven't come yet,” you purred softly against his ear, biting the lobe.

"I don't know when I'm going to get hard again," he confessed. Well, his brain was working again.

"You don't have these long fingers for nothing, Michael, and if you want it again you'll fuck me with them."

As much as he was affected by a sudden one, his sharp senses were awakened in the implication of a next time. He faithfully believed that hard work would lead him to maximum success in his life, he could not imagine otherwise in this situation. "How should I do that?"

You purred, taking his right hand and guiding it to your wet center. "Always start here if you want to make a girl cum," you circled your bud with his fingers, enjoying the delicious feeling, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Start with one finger, then add another."

He followed your instructions firmly, sticking a long finger and pumping slowly. "Not so slow," you bit your lower lip, somewhat impatiently waiting for the development of a slow orgasm. You needed to cum hard. Taking his hand, you held your middle finger and attached it to your index finger. “Faster.”

And although inexperienced and a little strong sometimes, his fingers felt fucking good on your walls, reaching the sweet point that made your feet's fingers curl. “Keep going, mm.”

"Can I kiss you?"

“Yes.”

Michael collided his lips on yours in a kiss full of tongue and teeth, staying on top while he fucked you with his fingers. He was hypnotized by the sounds you were making, by the warmth of your body, by the taste of your mouth...

“I'm close!”

You couldn't believe that that sleeky nerd of all people was giving you such pleasure.

Michael got up abruptly and used the hand that held his weight to circle your clitoris, making your eyes close with the construction of an abrasive orgasm. He pumped faster, watching your body squirm and your back arch.

“Michael- I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a hot pleasure flooded your senses, holding the sheets and closing your legs with the strong spasms.

It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. And he did that. He made you cum. Michael was still very stunned with everything that happened, watching your figure before being pulled to lie next to you. You rested your head on his chest with a satisfied and tired smile, giving light kisses on his skin, relaxed with the post-orgasm fog.

“Did you like it?” You asked to break the ice.

"You've already asked better questions," he joked with a hoarse laugh, "Of course I fucking liked it."

“Mmm, I like to make sure,” you replied, facing his beautiful blue eyes behind the slightly blurred lenses.

Having your body so close (and with everything that happened) Michael felt his cock contract and a new electric current run through his body. "So there's going to be a next time?"

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taglists

general: @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess @arcielee

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thank you smm @solisarium for the help with this ❤️

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x fem!reader #smut #saltburn #ewan mitchell #ewanverse

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igotanidea · 1 year

Text

Home : bat!family x bat!sister

Summary: no one gets to offend my siblings and father. No one but me. I'll make sure of it.

***

Maybe it was a bad idea to apply for that Erasmus program and leave her brothers and adoptive father alone for whole three months. Sure, studying abroad, expanding knowledge, learning language and customs was an amazing experience, but it came with the cost. The price of being in fear that her family would get themselves in trouble, pain, fight they could not recover from.

The first two weeks of her adventure was the worst, since she was waking up at most random night hours, ready to jump into fight, those vigilantes instincts and habits kicking in.

Those were the nights when she was turning and tossing in her bed unable to close an eye and in result sneaking out her dorm room and walk around the campus like the ghost. The quietness and peacefulness of her surroundings at the academy were so different from those she knew in Gotham, it was almost disturbing.

There was no denying that Y/N was the smartest in the family, even Tim admitted it once (obviously not while talking to her, but she overheard his conversation with Bernard) but at times like this she was second-guessing her choices.

Due to her specific upbringing and family background she also never managed to form any deep connection with her fellow students, preferring to stay by herself, focus on the task and putting a lot of work into expanding her knowledge and skills in technology. She never complained, but from other people’s perspective she was an eremite. Kind, polite with perfect manners when someone asked her for something or while working in group, but still highly reserved. Just like her adoptive father, whose relation to she was trying to keep a secret. And it worked up to the day when one of the lecturers accidentally called her “Miss Wayne” in front of the whole class. The second he did it the air in the auditorium froze. She might have been in different country, but for God’s sake she was studying technology, of course everyone heard about the Wayne Enterprises and the Bruce Wayne.

“You’re his daughter?” one of the boys in the lower row turned around and eyed her suspiciously

“Yes. Adoptive one.”

“Of course. He’s well known for taking kids in, right? Seems like some sort of complex or maybe even a disease” he smirked and it made the girl clench her fist. Her relationship with Bruce might have been rocky, but no one except her and her brothers were allowed to judge and offend him.”

“Care to elaborate on that?” she hissed, eyeing the guy with ice cold gaze

“Miss Y/L/N! Mister Olsen! Please calm down and sit down!” the teacher tried to make up for his mistake but it was far too late for that.

“You misspelled my name once, might as well keep calling me Wayne now.” the tone of her voice matched the gaze. She was not going to let the guy easily, but getting in trouble with the dean was not a part of her plan. “Now, can we continue with the lecture? I don’t know about anyone else in her, but speaking for myself I would love to actually learn something useful.”

***

Y/N was the middle child. Younger than Dick and Jason, older than Tim and Damian which placed her literally halfway in the family. Because of that she was a mix of responsibility and carelessness, doing her own thing, not always the right way, but still capable of getting away with a lot more than the others. Not as family oriented as Dick, feeling a bit overshadowed by Jason, highly competitive with Tim and more independent and individualistic than Damian. Still, even despite her “boss bitch” attitude, she was sandwiched between her brothers which made her the best negotiator and mediator in the family. Y/N also had a strong sense of fairness and morality and would always try her best to do the right things. Objectively, not subjectively. And making fun of her family was not one the things she could forget. However, before taking any action she had to gather intel, figure out what the guy knew and then come right at him.

***

Waiting till the end of the class was probably the greatest torture she ever had to endure, every minute stretching into infinity and when it was over the sense of relief almost made her drop the plan. Almost.

“I’m not done with you, Olsen.” she was faster to the door, stopping her potential victim from getting away.

“You want more, Wayne?”

“Please. Hit me with your best shot. What is your problem with my family, exactly?”

“Let me think” he tapped his chin. “There are so many. Like for instance, your oldest brother. What was his name again? Oh, right! Dick. Suits him quite well, doesn’t it. A prick, if you ask me. Definitely a show-off with no skills.” He scoffed “Shall I continue?”

“ Please. You got like three more people to gossip about.”

“The second in line, Jason, right? Oh, the unhinged one. Violent, mocking, thinking he is better than anyone else around, when in reality he’s just a lost, scared child. Probably a dumbass too.”

“Pretty sure he would agree with that. Now what about Tim and Damian?”

At this point Olsen was getting a bit surprised that the girl in front of him was still unfazed. Her calmness, a sign of silent inside fury making him slightly uncomfortable. Not enough to stop however.

“Drake…..” the name rolled of his tongue while the boy was wondering what words to choose “oh, he’s the gay one, right? Such a shame that the renowned Wayne family has someone like that as a member. Bet your father would never take him in, if he knew. A fairy becoming the next CEO of his renowned company. How ironic!”

“Hm.” Oh, Y/N was so much like Bruce at times and it showed in the least expected moments.

Damn that girl! How could it not make her angry?

“And …… Damian, the only biological child. Absolutely maladjusted and unaware of social norms and boundaries. Tell me, how was it like to have your youngest brother violate your boundaries and personal space?”

“It was. ….educatory. Just like it was with everything you just said. You presented yourself as someone with some serious psychological issues and possibly an unhealthy interest in my family’s life. So thank you, it truly was illuminating.”

***

“What the hell did you do Y/N?” a very alerted Dick appeared on the other side of the screen

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” The girl sighted and fell onto the cushions bringing the computer onto her lap to see her brother better

“Don’t lie to me now, sis.”

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.”

“Bruce has been on the phone for the last fifteen minutes and from what I figured it’s about something that happened on the campus.”

“The only thing happening on the campus are students who skip classes.” She mumbled “maybe except that one time when one of the boys lost some stupid bet and blew up the fountain as some sort of punishment. That was funny.”

A little grunt was heard on Dick’s side and for a second he disappeared from the screen.

“Dick?”

“Sorry, I had a little interruption.” He rubbed his forehead “Now, back onto what you did…..”

“Did you say that someone blew the fountain?” third face appeared on the screen in the corner, taking over the conversation.

“Hello, Jason.”

“Hi sis. Maybe I should have joined you in your academic career. Seems like you have a lot of fun there. Besides, I never really finished school, since you know…. I died.”

“We know.” Y/N and Dick said in unison

“Always a good opportunity to remind you, right?” he grinned “Now, sis, tell me, how was it going full rogue on fellow student? I gotta admit I’m proud of you here.”

“So that’s what this is about?” Dick’s eyes grew wider than ever “I;m gonna ask you once again, Y/N. what did you do?”

“Nothing permanent.”

“What…..?”

“Cut her some slack, Grayson.”

“Look who decided to join us.” Y/N smirked “improved your computer skills much, Damian?”

“I got tired of being left out.”

“Since when do you care about the group?”

“Leverage, sis. Knowledge is power, I thought you knew that.”

“Ok, that is enough!” Dick finally lost his patience “I’m trying to have a conversation with my little sis here. Both of you, get out of the line!”

“Mhm, keep dreamin’ Dickhead.”

“For once I agree with Todd.”

“You have no right to…..”

“Guys…..” Y/N tried to mitigate them, but deep inside she enjoyed their bantering. It was a while since she experienced it and only now realized how familiar it was.

“I was here first!” Dick yelled “And I’m the oldest”

“No one cares Grayson! You are a Bludhaven resident now. Just because you visit the manor does not mean you can keep Y/N busy using the wayne’s devices!”

“Don’t you have someone to kill in the crime alley, Jay?”

“Unlike you, I succeeded in all my latest missions.”

“Is that what you call coming back to your safe house bloodied and injured. You were on the verge of death!” Damian smirked “you were absolutely inept, that’s not a success.”

“You were what, now?!” Y/N shrieked. Her second oldest brother was sometimes too careless.

“It was not that bad, Y/N, I swear. And how the fuck do you know about it, demon?”

“I have my ways.”

“I would suspect Drake of spying on me, but you?”

“Speaking of the devil, I’m surprised Tim hasn’t already join us.” Dick muttered

“Oh, he did.” Y/N pointed out

“WHAT?” her brothers cried. Now there was another one fighting for her attention and it was not a secret that Tim was her favorite making the situation harder.

“I did.” Tim chuckled “Well, to tell the truth Y/N let me in the channel. We have our ways with technology. Something none of you could ever fully understand. “

“Of course not….”

“Cheer up, Dami. You can’t monopolize all the areas.”

“I would beg to differ.”

“Ok, everyone hold up here. I think we lost the point of the conversation. The thing was that Bruce was on the phone, probably taking to the dean about….”

“Y/N played a little prank on her classmate, is that right?” of course Tim was the one who everything best.

“He deserved it.”

“Y/n…..”

“Stop using the big brother voice on me! It’s not going to work!”

“How about we use Damian’s youngest one?” Dick teased

“I refuse to be used in this….”

“SHUT UP DAMIAN!” Dick and Jason shouted together and shared a murderous look between one another. Now they were both desperate to find out what happened since Tim would rather die than spill the bean. It was infuriating. They were the older brothers! This had to mean something.

“Ok, that’s it.” Damian stood up and the view of the empty chair in the place where his face should be was highly disturbing.

“That is not good.” Y/N said out loud something that all of them already knew. Her presumptions turned out to be right a second later when the shouting and yelling reverberated through the speakers and a blur of black and green rushed into Dick’s room.

“hey, I want to join the fight too!” Jason started up and with a speed, Wally West could be jealous of involved in the mix of limbs and screams.

“Wait! I though Dick was in Bludhaven! Tim?”

“Not today. We’re all in the manor.”

“And you idiots were talking to me through four different computers?”

“Are you actually surprised?”

“On second thought, not at all.” She sighed. It’s a good thing you are the reasonable one here…..”

“There you are, Timmy” now the situation has turned as it was Dick who appeared in the door of Tim’s bedroom “you are not getting out of this. If you want Y/n to yourself you have to fight me.”

“And me!” Jason tackled Dick to the ground with a loud thump

“Losers!” Damian jumped over their bodies and came right at Tim

Because of their actions, Y/N was the only one who noticed two men stepping from the shadows and exchanging some words. Apparently Bruce wasn’t capable of putting the boys in their places and asked Alfred to try this instead. And a single grunt from the butler did a miracle as all of them stood up and started explaining and apologizing. Funny as it was, Y/N knew that with Bruce’s arrival she was heading straight towards preaching from her father.

“Y/N.”

“Hello Bruce.”

“Did you break his arm?”

“You broke his arm?” Dick was halfway out but turned back immediately

“No.” Y/n shook her head “I broke his arm and hurt his legs.”

“Don’t forget that you also demolished his dorm room.”

“That wasn’t me. That was….”

“Did you go at him as a vigilante? Wow! Way to go, sis. Now I truly am proud of you.”

“Ok, both of you, out!” Bruce lost the rest of his patience pushing Dick and Jay away. “Now that we are alone…….” he sighed deeply closing the door tight

“I;m not sorry.”

“Oh, I know. And I’m not mad, because I’m sure you had a reason to do it. So tell me, why?”

“you…. you want to know ?”

“Of course. Look Y/n, I’m aware I won’t get a father of the year cup from you, but I care all right? Did that boy hurt you and you took retaliation? Just tell me….”

“He was talking shit about our family.”

“And you felt the urge to protect the Wayne’s honor?” Bruce smirked “this is so not like you.”

“Honor, my ass. We’ve lost that ages ago, Bruce. The only thing I was protecting was my sole privilege of mocking you. No one else is allowed to do it.”

“I’ll be sure not to tell your brothers that you miss them. “

“That would be most welcome.”

“And you have to know that we don’t miss you either, y/n.” father and daughter’s gazes met and they both nodded in silent agreement, right corners of their mouths lifting almost unnoticeable. “You coming to visit next week?”

***

Something was wrong.

Something was terribly wrong and that tingling sensation became unbearable the second she climbed the manor’s stairs and reach for the doorknob with a heartrate so fast it would send anyone else straight into cardiac arrest. Y/N however kept her cold blood, focusing on what may happened inside and considering her options and strategies for a potential fight.

She could not expect that the moment she opened the door four figures would jump out from the shadows making the noise that would bring the dead from behind the grave. It startled her and as a result she stumbled back, hitting the wardrobe and making it shake. She could not expect that on said wardrobe there would be packets and packets of paint and that those would fall down straight on her making her look like some abstractionism painting.

“I hate you all.” She muttered while her brothers run away in four different directions.

“Welcome home, miss Y/N” Alfred approached her with a tissue so she could at least wipe the paint from her eyes.

“Home.” She whispered “Yes, it definitely feels like it.”

It was good to be back.

But she was still going after them. .....

Later. When they would least expect it.

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